Both More Wondrous and Terrible
by MK-ONE
Summary: Harry discovers the 'power he knows not'. His power can save the world from Voldemort, but can it save Harry?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Chapter One: ****Capture My Heart**

Number twelve Grimauld Place was as silent and cold as the Burrow had never been. Members of the Order came and went at a moment's notice to deliver a quick message, or to coordinate new search areas with their comrades. The Weasley clan had been out in force, leading small bands of search parties in their futile attempt to locate its youngest member, Ginny.

_Oh God! _Hermione thought woefully as she struggled to hold back the onslaught of tears that welled at the corners of her eyes, what she would tell Harry when he awoke from this strange, magically induced state of unconsciousness. It had been three days since they had destroyed Voldemort's final horcrux; that damned snake, Nagini. Hermione thought of that night over and over she ran the memory though her mind looking for some clue that could explain Harry's current state.

The battle had been horrific to say the least. Harry and Ron too, had been magnificent. Ron had stood courageously over her injured form as he dueled with and eventually defeated three Death Eaters on his own. Harry was left the daunting task of killing Voldemort's vile pet, Nagini. The giant snake had reared and struck at Harry as he dived and weaved out of reach, all the while firing a ceaseless volley of curses that barely inflicted any damage on the enraged reptile.

What had seemed hours was most probably only mere moments as the drama had unfolded around her. Hermione had never felt so useless. She had been hit by the _Cruciatus curse_ by Lucious Malfoy only moments after the three of them had entered one of the last chambers beneath Malfoy Manor. Her wand had been thrown from her hand as she had fallen writhing to the cold flagstone floor, sobbing and screaming in her agony. Abandoning their carefully laden plans, her heroic friends had flown to her defense. Unable to bring up a shield in time, Ron had leapt in front of the angry red jet of light, taking the curse upon himself as Harry threw a _stunner _with such force that it sent Malfoy cart wheeling through the air into the unforgiving stone of the chamber's wall. His head struck the wall with a sickening wet **crunch**, and he fell dead to the chamber floor. His once baleful eyes staring vacant and lifeless, a sneer still etched on his pale lips

Ron had stood over her limp form taking all the pain of the unforgivable curse upon himself. He still managed to fight off Dolohov long enough until Harry could arrive. Harry had turned from Malfoy's broken body in time to deliver an _Incendio_ _hex _that caught Dolohov right between the eyes. Dolohov shrieked in agony as he tried vainly to extinguish the flames that engulfed his head. His hands blistered as he tried to beat out the rapidly expanding fire that was consuming his once imposing frame. Finally, blessedly … his cries of pain and anguish had subsided. With the merest of whimpers; Dolohov succumbed to the inevitable and fell to the floor, nothing more than a pile of smoldering ash.

Dolohov's cries had alerted the remaining Death Eaters who pounded into the chamber, their wands already drawn.

"The snake!" Ron had bellowed as he pushed Harry in the direction of Nagini where the fearsome snake lay coiled and waiting at the far corner of this dank and musty stone chamber. Ron brought up shield after shield has he tried to block the barrage of spells cast in his direction, not for himself the git, but in an effort to protect her from further harm. Barely able to move, her body still racked with the painful after effects of the _Cruciatus curse_, Hermione could do nothing but admire the efforts her two champions made on her behalf, that and curse herself silently for being such a girl!

_Smartest witch of her age-hah!_ She thought back bitterly as she remembered the last events of that night.

Harry stalked Voldemort's foul reptile about the chamber in an intricate dance to the death. Ron both shielded her and assaulted the remaining Death Eaters with a never ending volley of his own curses, but he was rapidly tiring and beginning to give ground. Harry's strongest spells bounced harmlessly off of Nagini's magically enhanced scales as he bobbed and weaved about the chamber in a mad attempt to avoid the snake's venomous fangs as it continued to strike with increasing ferocity.

"Harry?" she had wailed, "The ceiling!" her voice had been little more than a feeble whisper, but he had heard and by the gleam that lit his intense green eyes, she knew he understood. At that instant, Ron grunted and fell to his knees. The sole remaining Death Eater took aim for the kill,

"No!" Harry screamed as he beheld his two friend's eminent demise. Harry launched himself into the air with reflexes honed on the quidditch field.

"_Avada__ Kedavera !" _the Death Eater howled in triumph as a green jet of light streaked from his wand toward Ron and Hermione. Harry in his desperation had launched himself between his friends and the Death Eater. His intention was to shield them with his own body and still rid them of this final horcrux. Harry twisted in the air and screamed "_Reducto_", his wand fired a crackling bolt of white energy into the ceiling above.

A deafening roar enveloped the chamber as the ceiling caved in upon the last Death Eater and the snake, crushing them beneath tons of ageless stone.

Hermione brushed Harry's sweat dampened locks from his forehead as she traced the outline of his lightning scar, standing out red and angry against his pale forehead. Her last recollection was the most awing and yet, troubling thing of all. She puzzled over those final moments over and over within her own mind... _W__hy wasn't he dead?_

Hermione had been sure that for the barest of moments that she had heard traces of _phoenix song_ and had saw an intense golden light of fire fill the chamber as the ceiling had come crashing down around them. She had felt warm and safe within that flaming sphere as if she were cradled in her mother's arms. The strange glow had felt like warm breath upon her skin and there was something so familiar about the sensation, something that nagged intensely at her senses, but she couldn't quite place it though knew she had experienced it somewhere before.

_What was it? Where had it come from? How had all those fallen stones managed to crush their enemies and leave them not only intact but had provided them a means to escape their stony prison_ .

The collapsed ceiling had left a gaping hole in the roof of Malfoy Manor. They had disapparated through the gaping hole left in the shattered ceiling's wake. She had been sure that Harry had caught at least part of the killing curse in his side at the time, but one of the falling boulders must have deflected the vile spell.

" Oh, Harry", she breathed remorsefully as she held his limp hand to her cheek, tears brimming in her eyes, "Why won't you wake up? How could you do it? We agreed, Harry. You swore an oath to us that you wouldn't place yourself in harm's way before the final battle. You swore that you'd let Ron and I shoulder this burden until you could face Voldemort."

Her voice was barely a whisper as she added in a sobbing whisper. "You can't leave us here can't win without you. We need you, Harry. Come back to us... Please."

A gentle hand grasped her shoulder pulling her from her thoughts and adding some much needed comfort to her wounded soul. She had never even heard Ron come into, once Sirius's, now Harry's bedroom. She had been lost in trying to will their friend to wake.

" Any change luv ?" He inquired. She gasped slightly even through her misery over Harry's condition. How long had she waited and hoped to hear him speak to her with such affection in his voice?

"No, he's still out, Ron. Madam Pomfrey is bedside herself trying to figure out what's wrong with him. She's been in and out of the room a dozen times during the night, so has everyone else for that matter. Madam Pomfrey said it's nothing physical that she can tell. She said it was like Harry was totally drained of his magic, his life force! She said he's barely hanging on." her voice caught as she began to sob again, clutching at Ron's hand where it rested on her shoulder, drawing comfort from his touch.

"He'll be alright ... Mione, he's always pulled through before. You won't let us down will ya mate?"

Ron tried to sound positive. He was hoping to lift her spirits; more than actually believing that he'd somehow reach his unconscious friend. His words sounded strained and hollow, even to his own ears.

"H-Have you found her yet?" Hermione managed to choke out between sniffles.

"Nah." he tried to make himself sound nonchalant so has to not add more burdens to her already troubled mind. "Don't worry about it Hermione, we'll find Ginny. The brothers and dad are out looking for her, along with the entire Order and half the aurors from the Ministry. Bloody hell, I even heard that Professor McGonagal is rallying the other professors to join in the search. We'll track her down."

Ginny had disappeared from the King's Cross station on her way home from Hogwart's this morning, despite all the Orders precautions. She had been on her way home for the Christmas break.

"Do you think the Death Eaters have her?" Hermione rasped, almost afraid to hear his answer.

"Can't see how, but what else could it be?" He shifted his weight nervously before continuing, "We should've of heard something by now, strange there wasn't any signs of a struggle at the train station. Other student's remember seeing her go through the invisible barrier, but no one remembers seeing her on the other side where mum and Bill were waiting for her."

Harry moaned softly in his sleep...

"You don't reckon he can hear us do you, Mione?" Ron whispered cautiously.

" N-No,.. I don't think so, but if anyone could in this condition…?" she trailed off. Moments later her eyes brightened briefly as she lit on an idea. She bent low to his ear and whispered, "Harry? Ginny's missing Harry. She needs you."

Harry stirred briefly and moaned softly again. She could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids. He looked as if he were in the grips of a nightmare, but, almost as soon as he had reacted to her words, he seemed to slump down lower within himself. Harry's breathing became more shallow and his skin lost what little pallor it once had, if that was even possible as he was ghostly white already.

"I guess that answers that question!" Ron put in, shocked by his friend's display of emotion, especially in this diminished state. "I think you better try tact, Hermione. I don't think he could take another bit about Ginny right now."

" But he's always been so strong, Ron ." She added, hoping vainly that he would give her the go ahead to make another try at reaching Harry.

"Yeah,.. Yeah he is." Ron conceded before quickly amending. " but, not when it comes to Ginny. She's been his heart, Mione. Through all these months as we've searched and destroyed horcruxes. I think it's been the thought that one day he could actually find a way to be with Ginny that's been driving him forward. I know that they broke up and all, but, that's not what either of them wanted, not really, not at all. I couldn't believe he'd actually had the courage to break things off? I know I wouldn't have been that strong if it were you."

He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into him with a sigh of pleasure, burying her face into his side as Ron continued to express his thoughts .

"At first I was glad that Harry cared enough about Ginny to let her go, you know,..keep her safe and all. Lately though, I…?. When I see that fierce look he gets in his eye whenever he's confronted with one of us in danger, it's… well it's ... it's shocking really! You've seen him, it's like he's actually radiating power. I don't think there's anything he couldn't do when he gets like that."

"Well honestly Ronald," Hermione scolded, "Are you just realizing how much Harry loves and cares about us? We're everything to him, we're not just his friends, but his,. his family . He'd give his life for us without a second thought, and he knows we'd do the same for him, if it comes to that."

Ron kissed her cheek gently, trying to head off her rising temper. It would do Harry little good, or himself for that matter, if they were to start rowing now.

"I, I know but,... it's not the same with Ginny where Harry's concerned. His feelings for her are stronger , much stronger than they are for us." Ron spread his hands helplessly in front of himself struggling to explain where he was going with this.

" If he really does draw strength from love, you know, like what Dumbledore said, than can you imagine what he would be like, how strong he might become if it were Ginny in danger? I know he doesn't say much about it, but, he's been beating himself up ever since he broke things off with her last year, and she's been in a right state ever since. It's like they were, I dunno,. like they were...?"

"Soulmates." Hermione finished with a romantic sigh, as she grasped his hand tightly and pulled it to her cheek to emphasize her own feelings in that regard.

Ron chuckled softly at the implication. He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, sending a tingle of warmth through her that brought a faint blush to her cheeks.

"Actually, I was gonna say that they were like two halves of the same heart."


	2. Chapter 2: Bait for the Trap

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**CHAPTER TWO** : **BAIT FOR THE TRAP **

Despite the warmth that spread through the richly furnished drawing room, red slits for eyes stared coldly into the blazing fire within the hearth. A soft knock at the door brought the merest of smiles to this once handsome face now distorted by years hatred and cruelty inflicted upon countless innocents.

"Enter!" his voice hissed impatiently.

A cloaked figure entered the room at a quickened pace, for her master was not one to be kept waiting by his subordinates, not even one such as she who had risen to such high favor from the Dark Lord. She knelt and pressed her lips to the hem of his robes. A faint ripple of pleasure coursed through him as he looked down into her gray eyes, they sparkled with such adoration.

"Report!" he barked.

Bellatrix Lestrange never flinched from his commands the way the others did, for she and she alone knew that he was short with her not out of vehemence ,but out of eagerness to see his designs come to fruition. She could hardly mask her growing excitement.

" A-All is as you command milord. Our trap is well baited with the youngest of the red haired family of blood traitors, the Weasleys. She has been placed sleeping on the dais below. Her wand was removed and she is guarded on all sides and at all times by the most steadfast of your subjects. We have placed anti-apparition spells throughout the mansion and the gate has been charmed to allow only the Potter whelp access. Once he has entered the mansion, the wards will seal and none will be able to enter or leave until you so command. You have but to administer the _draught _and reach out to his feeble mind to reveal our location and he will surely come lest the _draught of death _claim her. Her gallant knight will come to the rescue." She sneered at the thought of the boy's foolishness.

His pale clawed hand reached out and cupped her chin, a sharp thumbnail scratched ever so gently across her cheek, trailing the slightest hint of blood in its wake. She shuddered, not in fear or revulsion as other fools might, but, with growing excitement at this first display of his affection for her. All but forgotten was the death of her own husband not a few days

"Ah.. yes Bella, you have done well,.. well indeed" His voice rasped silkily, betraying his own growing anticipation. "Soon, very soon I will call out to Potter's mind and reveal the location of his lady fair,... that is if you are sure that he has some depth of feeling for the girl?" he left a hint of menace punctuate his words to emphasize that he would brook no failure now, not at this late date.

" Quite sure, milord. When she is in danger he fights like one possessed! The rumors of their breakup are but a ruse. His concern for his friends safety has always been his Achilles heel. Call to his mind master. He will come and you shall have your just vengeance."

Voldemort barely heard her pleas, lost as he was within his own thoughts and growing fears. He contemplated taking her into his confidence for the briefest of moments before utterly dismissing the idea. Unflinching in her loyalty though Bellatrix was, he had learned long ago that he could trust no one, nor did he need to. Potter, despite his youth and short comings, had proven a worthy adversary in destroying his horcruxes. It was troubling, but of little consequence. He would find another way to secure his immortality.

The combined efforts of the Ministry and Dumbledor's thrice damned Order , had eaten away at his forces over the past year, till all but his most loyal of followers still remained at by side. This, however, would change soon enough once Potter lay dead at his feet. Potter's friends would soon lose heart once their _**chosen **_champion falls.

_Why though? Why could he not sense the boy's thoughts, surely he had not finally mastered occulmency and learned to block his mind from my probes_?

Shortly after Nagini's death, Voldemort had lost all sense of Potter. How that was possible he could not hazard a guess, but he knew in his heart that the brat was still alive.

"M-Master", her voice brought him from his brooding. "Master, will you not alert the Potter brat to his wench's danger? His death would make for a deliciously Happy Christmas, would it not?" Her eyes gleamed coolly with the desire for blood.

_If I could I_ _would_, the dark lord thought bitterly. _No matter_, soon his probes would penetrate the whelp's mind and Potter would hasten to their trap. "Patience, patience Bellatrix. If not for Christmas, than for certain we will be celebrating a Happy New Year!" He threw back his head and laughed mirthlessly at his own jest.

Even one so devoid of emotion as Bellatrix Lestrange could feel her blood chill as his cruel laughter washed over her like an icy breeze.

Ginnycouldn't make sense of her dream. She thought she had been passing through a barrier at King's cross station. She even thought that she could see Bill and mum waiting for her in the distance. Before she could emerge from the barrier, it felt like icy cold tendrils had lashed out and dragged her into perpetual darkness. She had tried to call out to her mother, but no sound had escaped her lips. She tried to reach for her wand with numbed fingers that only closed on empty space.

_It must be a dream, a nightmare really, but still, just a dream. _She half convinced herself.

Though still frightened, she settled her mind and drifted off to sleep, taking comfort that she'd soon wake up warm and cozy within her own bed on Christmas Eve morn... Harry would be there.


	3. Chapter 3:Dreams and Reality

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Chapter Three:**** Dreams and Reality**

Harry trudged through the dew covered lawn as he made his way to the hut of his very first friend. Smoke was curling from the chimney with the promise of a warm fire raging within. Just as he stepped on the porch, the hut's enlarged doorway opened and a familiar voice boomed from within,

" Alrigh there 'Arry?"

_Alright? Am I alright. _

The last thing he remembered was throwing himself in front of Ron and Hermione to shield them from a killing curse.

" I dunno, am I alright?" He heard himself ask.

Laughter boomed from his friend, Hagrid, as he made his way out onto the porch. He held a pair of steaming mugs in his huge hands and offered one to his bewildered young friend.

" Sorry for laughin at ya 'Arry, but that's the firs time I ever recollect you not saying you were "fine". Speaking 'o which you were almost never fine, by the by."

"It's good to see you Hagrid." He said with genuine affection before adding sheepishly.

"Don't take this wrong or anything, but aren't you..?"

" Dead?" Hagrid finished his thought for him." An yet here I am. Its kind o' marvelous really. Here I am in the place I love best and I got all the time in the world to do the thing I loves the most- taking care o' critters an such."

Harry was afraid to ask what was really first and foremost in his mind so he stalled a bit to gather his resolve by noting," Hagrid where's Fang? Shouldn't he be here?"

Hagrid's eyes were twinkling as he took a long draught from his mug before answering cryptically

"He'll be along one o' these days. The great furry coward's still probably skulking out in the Forbidden Forest somewhere."

Harry finally found the courage to ask what was foremost in his mind " Am I dead?"

Hagrid drained his mug and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before answering.

" Well now, as to that, I would have ter say. no."

Harry's face was a mixture of relief and consternation. "Then what am I doing here, where ever here is, and where is everyone else?"

His friend chuckled softly. "Oh there's quite a fair few round bout, but, Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea if I talked to yer first, great man Dumbledore, even in death. Which brings me ter the reason fer this nice little visit you've arranged."

Harry's mouth gapped " I've arranged? What do you mean ,I've arranged?"

" Har, har, har! Now don't get yer knickers in a bunch, 'Arry." Hagrid guffawed as he gave his young friend a playful swat on the shoulder, which to Harry felt like his large friend might have dislocated in his exuberance.

Hagrid sobbered as he took note of Harry's discomfort. " Seriously though, it's quite a power yev managed ter stumble across 'Arry. It's both "wonderful and terrible", ter quote Dumbledore. I'm speaking o' course about love. It's the one power above all others that you seem ter have in spades, an that's saying sumthin, cause you've become very powerful magically speaking."

Harry's eyes were glued to the floor as he muttered shame faced.

"Not powerful enough to save you, Hagrid."

Hagrid's brow furrowed in irritation. "You've got ter stop blaming yourself fer things that are out of your control, 'Arry. I knew I was a dead man the second I broke rank and charged down them bunch 'o cowards. I couldn't help meself, not after what they did ta poor Professor Dumbledore. They just kept firing curses inta him, even after he was dead!" Hagrid tried to continue , but was overcome by his own personal grief at seeing his friend and mentor fall victim to the Death Eaters. He mopped his eyes with a table cloth sized handkerchief.

Harry's gaze was glued to the floor as he himself struggled to fight back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him when he thought of that night. It was that last night that he and his remaining friends were still together. The Order had won the battle but their cost was great that night... Harry's thoughts were pulled to the present as his large friend blew his nose with enough force to shame a mountain troll.

"I'm sorry Hagrid. I tried to stop you, but you went kind of mental. When you grabbed up Macnair by the feet and started swinging him about like a make-shift beater, the rest of us had to dive for cover. You were quite impressive really, even Voldemort looked scared for a minute there."

"Ar..." Hagrid chuckled softly at the memory of his own demise. "It was the foul git's laughin at what his dogs were doing ter Dumbledore's body that set me off in the firs place. I'd of swatted him down like the rest if Macnair's legs hadn't of broke off like that, leaving me without a weapon an all." Hagrid shrugged disappointedly.

Harry suppressed a shudder at the memory of the Death Eater's body being rent in two by Hagrid's raging.

"Guess I don't know me own strength. Them Death Eaters seemed so small at the time. Can't see how I made it as far as I did though. I could 'o sworn some of those curses they threw at me hit the mark, but I just didn't seem ter feel it at the time. An him, standing there acting all smarmy, Voldemort was. Ha! I could see the fear in his eyes fer myself. So I just chucked the rest 'o Macnair at 'im. Winged him good I did, Har!" Hagrid laughed as he slapped his leg.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of Macnair's body slamming into Voldemort , sending him reeling into the muddy street like one of those muggle bowling pins. Hagrid had stood there laughing at the spectacle as the surviving Death Eaters moved in to kill him.

" Course I'd have never made it as far as I did, if it wasn't fer you, Arry." Hagrid said with a knowing wink as he ruffled his young friend's already unkempt hair.

"Me? W-What did I do?" Harry stammered modestly.

A familiar voice answered him from the doorway to Hagrid's hut. "Come now Harry, such modesty. I believe I know a proper _Giantus-Maxis_ _charm_, when I see one. That was a nice bit of magic you conjured to increase our good friend's strength and resistance. You gave Hagrid a fighting chance, as it were."

Harry's head swiveled around in excited recognition. "Professor Dumbledore!" He shouted in excitement.

Before his old school master could reply, Harry leapt up and wrapped his former mentor in a fierce hug. Startled at first, Dumbledore quickly recovered and patted his young friend on the back affectionately; his eyes twinkled as he spoke softly.

" Yes, Yes. I must say it is good to see you too Harry. You are, however, about a hundred years earlier than I had anticipated, but that is all to the good. Hagrid, do forgive this intrusion, but I fear our time with young Harry is growing short and we've still much to discuss."

"Not at all professor. To tell yer the truth,.. I was,.. er, having a bit o' trouble coming round ter the subject meself. I was kinda lost in recent memories, so ter speak."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled knowingly, "Quite understandable. Now Harry, if you'll give this old shade a bit of space, we'll come to the point of your visit ."

Harry pulled out of the embrace, his mouth agape as he puzzled over Dumbledore's meaning. "Visit? Y-You mean I'm not really dead? I'm not staying here?"

"Course you're not!" Hagrid thundered. "Whatever give ya that idea?"

Harry worked his jaw, his brow furrowed, "W-Well, I'm here, wherever here is?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily; he was thoroughly enjoying the banter resulting from Harry's disorientation. "You are quite right to assume that you are in the place of the dead, however, this is but a way station before the next grand adventure and we two have been summoned to offer you a bit of our humble guidance."

Harry's eyes went wide," But, but I thought you said no magic could bring back the dead?"

Dumbledore mimicked Harry's previous look of consternation, feigning surprise. "I assure you, in that I am quite correct, however, I never said that given special circumstances a particularly powerful kind of wizard, one with a pure heart, could in fact visit the dead, albeit for a brief time."

Harry colored brightly, his eyes on the floor, "I'm not powerful and I sure don't have a pure heart. I've done loads of bad stuff over the years, I reckon I broke about every rule there was at Hogwarts."

"Nah 'Arry, you aint so bad as all that." Hagrid piped in to ease his friend's conscious."

Dumbledore sighed lightly, even the patience of the dead could be sorely tested by Harry's stubbornness. He cleared his throat to draw their attention back. "A-hem. I'm afraid you're fighting a losing battle with our young charge Hagrid. You'll never be able to convince young Harry there, that he's anything more than a middling rule breaker at best. That is all well to the good, however, as if he were convinced that he is pure of heart than he never would be for the taint of self pride would surely be his undoing."

Harry's ears went pink and he toed the floor embarrassedly. He watched Dumbledore extract a timepiece from his robe's pocket and cluck his tongue disapprovingly, though why time should matter when your dead, Harry couldn't guess. Dumbledore caught Harry's eye and gave him a knowing wink. "It doesn't matter to us, however, it is terribly important to you and to those you will shortly be returning to in the realm of the living," He added further. "I do apologize for intruding upon your thoughts, dear boy. You never have quite gotten the knack of _occulomency_, have you?"

Harry colored a deep shade of red and replied, "No, not so much..

Dumbledore rose to his feet stating "Ah well, that too will only serve to our purpose in the near future." He said mysteriously, before suggesting, "I'm afraid it's nearly time you were off, please take a moment to say your farewells to our large friend and then we'll have a chat as I escort you back"

Harry nodded his head glumly in acknowledgement. He had never meant to have had to say goodbye to Hagrid the first time, let alone a second.

" Ha- Hagrid.. I.." Before he could say more, his friend had gathered him up in a bone breaking hug. He could feel the top of his head moisten from Hagrid's falling tears.

" Don't you ferget me ya here, cause I won't be fergetin you anytime soon."

Harry began to sob softly and clutched desperately at his friend. "Course I won't forget you, Hagrid. You're the first friend I ever had."

Dumbledore turned away from the scene offering his friend's a bit of privacy and himself a chance to wipe away a stray tear or two of his own.

They walked in silence for a while before Dumbledore began. "Harry, let me first say that your achievements in finding and destroying Riddle's hoarcruxes have exceeded my expectations of you. That is saying quite something as my expectations of you were already quite high."

Harry blushed lightly at his praise, but quickly added. "I couldn't have done it without Ron and Hermionee. They did as much as I did, sometimes a lot more."

Dumbledore peered over his spectacles with the beginning twinge of a proud smile on lips."Spoken like a true Gryffindor. Indeed, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been instrumental in the success of your arduous tasks. They are in themselves invaluable, more so because of what they bring to your life... the love of friend and family. This brings me to my point. You know, of course, that wizards and witches are born with their magic, it is a part of them, an extension of themselves. Could you, however, hazard a guess where a wizard's true strength or power comes from? Have you ever wondered why it is that one wizard can be so much more powerful than another wizard even though they have both received the same training?"

Harry shook his head, "I dunno,.. I never really thought about it. I guess I always thought it was like everything else, just born that way, you know, like when one person is smarter than everybody else, or one is better in sports than another. I know you can get better at doing some things the more you learn or practice things, but some folks are just naturally stronger and better at certain things, aren't they?"

Dumbledore nodded his head appreciatively. "Yes, yes, what you say is all true for muggles, but for wizards there is one thing more to take into account. It is not something that you are born with, nor can it be learned in a class room, though these things contribute they are not in themselves, the sum of the whole. Wizards get their strength from their character. Those of good heart are strong in white magic. So it follows that the greater a person's depth of love, the greater their power to perform white magic. Unfortunately, the reverse is also true. The darker one's soul, such as those who let themselves be ruled by their hatred for others, so too the greater their strength in performing dark magic. As you already know, Voldemort is consumed with hatred, thus the reasoning for his great strength in dark magic. He was gifted yes, intelligent, but it is his great hatred above all else, that what makes him so powerful."

Worry creased Harry's brow, he looked searchingly into his mentor's eyes. "If he is so powerful, then how can I ever hope to beat him?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and a smile creased his lips. He chuckled knowingly."Ah, how indeed? You were fated to, as we know from knowledge of the prophecy. Your whole life, (despite all the many hardships that young life has entailed or perhaps because of it), you have been developing an ancient and wondrous power that may well tip the scales dramatically in your favor. I see by your expression that your patience is waning, but please indulge me a bit longer. Firstly, let me say this; you and Voldermort are the truest of opposites in almost every respect. You, who have suffered so much over the course of your young life, still care. You truly care about the welfare of others. You could have easily become bitter and resentful of your lot, but instead you chose to incorporate the noblest of man's virtues; those of courage, honor, fairness, generosity and love, as the sum of your character ."

Harry was shaking his head in denial, his ears reddening under the overly praised scrutiny of his former headmaster.

"I know, I know, your modesty does not enable you to embrace such praise, but there it is, for all to see. You care, Harry. You have such a propensity to love, and it is this very love, this great source of power, which gives you the strength to draw upon a most ancient and magnificent of powers. I am speaking of the _Phoenix Fire._"

Harry's mouth hung open in surprise, "The _Phoenix Fire, _but isn't that, it's just er... a legend , isn't it?" Dumbledore was polishing his glasses as he answered thoughtfully. "A legend, hmm... yes, a legend , but also quite true, none the less. The reason that it is no doubt considered 'only a legend' is most likely due to the fact that no one in recent memory has encountered someone who could conjure the _Phoenix Fire. _The first and last reported to have done so was Merlin himself. The _Fire_ itself is not a rare thing. What is rare, however, is the power of the wizard who is capable of bringing forth the _Phoenix Fire. _Only someone with the purest of hearts can call the _Fire, _and then only in great need. He does not call it for oneself mind you, but for others. You, Harry, yes you, called up the beginnings of the _Fire_ and used it, albeit briefly, to protect your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Granger. "

Harry gasped in denial. " What I never,.. when...,.. how could I ,.. I don't know anything about calling the _fire_?

Dumbledore patted Harry reassuringly on the back. He sighed briefly and attempted to explain further. "There is, of course, a first time for everything, and yes, you have begun to call the _fire. _It was brief in its entirety, nor did it reach its full potential by any means. It was a mere spark if you will, but yes, it was there ,and you my boy took the first step toward embracing a wondrous , if not themost wondrous of all gifts. I see by your expression that you are unconvinced. Let me explain further. In Malfoy Manor, when in an act of desperation, you threw yourself between your friends and certain doom that was it. That was when your need was so great. It was at that moment when the desire to protect your friends was so great, that the _Fire _rose within you. It was your great love for your friends, your desire to sacrifice yourself to save them that allowed the _Phoenix Fire _to flourish, to sparkle brightly for that briefest of moments."

Harry looked at his former mentor as if he had gone starkers, but Dumbledore was not to be dissuaded

"Think Harry; think about what happened just before you arrived here. The killing curse was on its way. You threw yourself in front of the curse to protect your friends. There was a flash of an all consuming golden light and phoenix song filled the air. The curse hit, did it not? Why are you not dead? How is it that your friends still live and are so desperately waiting for you to return to them at this very moment?" Harry's hand instinctively went to his side where the curse should have struck. He did not feel any sort of a wound beneath his trembling fingers. "How?" was all he could manage so say.

Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders. "A simple thing really, and as with all simple things there is great power. _Avada Kedavra, _the death spell is just that: _death. _However_, _the_ Phoenix Fire, _is its exact opposite. It is life, hope, renewal. It is the very power of creation itself, and it is from love that all things are created. I believe that you have always possessed this ability, but it is with the creation and continued growth of your feelings for your friends and a certain, Miss Ginevra Weasley. I believe it is this growing love that has opened you to the existence of the _Fire_ that burns within your heart, your very soul. You have not so much created the _Phoenix Fire_, but you are becoming the _Phoenix Fire_! I must warn you, however, great though this gift is and greater still the heart of the person who wields it, there is a danger. All of nature has it's price, young Harry. Merlin wrote within his diary and I quote, "For one whose love is so great that they may wield the _Phoenix Fire, _the price for such may be so great as to be love itself ." It is for this very reason that the _Phoenix Fire _had been called both 'wondrous and terrible'I truly hope that you will not find it so. Now, though I know you have more questions, Ifear that our time together is at an end. Fare you well, my young friend."

Dumbledore's visage began to dim and fade from view, with a last wink from a mischievous eye, he was gone and Harry's eyes snapped open to find himself nestled within Sirius's bed at Grimauld place.


	4. Chapter 4: Phoenix Fire

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Chapter Four: Phoenix Fire **

Harry awoke to find an empty chair at his bedside that no doubt had up till recently been occupied by Hermione as her soft clean scent was still lingering in the air. He kicked off his covers and fumbled for his glasses on his bedside table. He had just risen and began stretch out the kinks in his stiff muscles when blinding pain shot through his scar and knocked him down, panting to his knees. He struggled to raise his _occulomency_ shields when Voldemort's voice boomed in his skull.

" _Wait!_"

Harry was just about to make another attempt to block his enemy from his mind when the message repeated, only this time he dared not heed it's warning, " _Wait Potter, lest you want __**her**__ death on your already overflowing conscious..." _Harry didn't bother to ask Voldemort to whom his use of '_**her**_' referred, he already new the answer within his heart, .. Ginny.

His blood grew cold in his veins as he heard Voldemort's evil chuckle within his mind. " What do you want, Riddle?" He said out loud, not bothering to mask his disdain by using his foe's hatred of his muggle name to vex him. " _Do not call me that! You are in no position to display any of your characteristic cheek- Potter_!" Voldemort angrily hissed in warning as his thoughts tried to seep oily into Harry's barely guarded mind.

Though he was able to keep Voldemort from gleaning his next troubled knew he should be afraid, and he was terrified for Ginny, but still, he couldn't just let Voldemort dictate his own terms, not if Ginny was to have any chance at all of survival. Secretly, this was the one thing he had dreaded from the start of his hunt for the hoarcruxes. This was the very thing he had tried so desperately to prevent; that one of his friends would be used against him- worst of all, Ginny…

The prickling in his scare told him that his foe was growing more angry as he waited for a response.

"Whatever." He answered in irritation, attempting to sound bored. In truth, he was.

Riddle had spent years bullying him with his continual threats and botched attempts on his life. Over the past several months, he had found himself pleasantly surprised that he no longer was terrorized by his foe's continued abuse. He'd become rather desensitized to the whole thing. Ginny on the other hand, this was his worst fear staring him right in the face. He struggled to keep his words calm and even as he went on the offensive. He used logic as his weapon of choice, though he knew from experience that it was impossible to reason with the man. Still, he needed stall for time. He needed to come up with a plan, and fast.

"Your time is running out, Tom. Your hoarcruxes are gone, most of your followers are either in prison or dead, those that haven't already deserted you."

"_Why you impudent little flea, I'll _…"

Harry continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "It's over. You're just too thick to realize it. Ah well, you never could take the hint that you're not wanted. I tell you what; you let her go and I'll see to it that you get off with just life in Azkaban. If you harm her though, well, let's just say that "immortality"- will not be an option."

Harry's scar burned as never before whilst Voldemort's rage seethed behind his thoughts. He stoically embraced the pain, not daring to show his adversary the slightest weakness on his part. It was several moments before Voldemort's rage cooled and he answered Harry's offer.

" _You have been an inconvenience, a minor setback if you will, nothing more!_ _I will soon rise back to my former power and all the world shall tremble before my might. In the interim, I believe I have another alternative, a third option if you will. You will come to me this very night, and within the hour or she is lost to you for all time!"_

Harry's brow furrowed as he desperately tried to think of something, anything! He could feel himself being backed into a corner. All he could think to do was stall for time, try to find some weakness in Voldemort's obvious trap.

" An hour? I think I'll pass, thanks just the same. You're going to kill her anyway, if you haven't done so already.

Voldemort's thought's became more lecherous. "_Potter- you wound me. I assure you my intentions are ,.. ah.. quite honorable. Gaze into my thoughts with your mind's eye and you will see the fate that awaits your young lady." _

Images flashed through Harry's mind, each more painful and terrifying than the next. Ginny was being held down by Death Eaters. Her eyes wide in terror as screams ripped from her throat. Belatrix Lestrange was standing over her cackling madly, a look of triumph on her face as she pulled the stopper from a vial of..._**no..**_

"_Yes, Potter, ... that's right. It's the 'draught of living death'. I believe the antidote must be administered within an hour's time? Ah... it just so happens that I have an antidote here in a delicate vial, strung about my very neck. All you need do is face and defeat me within an hour's time. Do so and you save your fair lady, if not... well,… you know the res.. Ha, ha, ha! _

The last image of Ginny burned in his mind as he listened to Riddle's cruel commentary, Belatrix was tipping the vial toward Ginny's lips as she struggled violently to clench her mouth closed , but a Death Eater forced her jaws apart. Her last screams of, "No,.. No,.. Haaarrrrryyy..!" died on her lips as the first drop of the _draught_ fell into her gasping mouth.

"_You will find me here, Potter_"

An image of a dilapidated castle on the English coast flashed into his mind

"_Leave your "Order" friends behind. This is between us. Remember-_ o_ne hour, Potter!"_

Harry tore his sweat-soaked pajamas off, and quickly grabbed some clothes from his nearby dresser. He did not bother with wizarding robes. Jeans, sweatshirt and trainers would do. This was battle and he needed the ease of movement that comfortable clothes pounded toward the bedroom door, his mind calling out "_accio wand" _as he ran. Seeker's reflexes snatched the wand as it rocketed through the air, obeying its master's call.

He had to get out of Grimauld Place as the wards in place would not allow him to apparate within the premises. His empty hand grasped the door handle to find it, _locked? _In irritation he tapped his wand on the door and uttered, "_alhomera"..._nothing.. Angry now for the precious time that any delay would cost him in saving Ginny, he placed his palm against the door and pressed outward, letting his emotions guide his magic. The door screeched in protest before it blew off it's hinges and imbedded in the hallway wall beyond with a deafening "**Whump!". **

Wooden splinters and shards of plaster were sent careening in all directions.

Without a moment's notice for what he'd just done, Harry was in the hallway and racing toward the stairway. His mind was focused solely on his objective-Ginny. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the startled voice behind as it called out to him. At first she sounded afraid, but soon her voice was full of mounting desperation.

"What's happening,.. the door... ..Harry? Where are you going... what... wait!"

Hermione had heard the door explode from its hinges and bolted for the hall. Her wand was drawn as she'd thought they were under an attack from Death Eaters. Her eyes went wide as she saw Harry's back retreating toward the distant stairway.

The air crackled with energy all around him. Wallpaper blistered. Plaster cracked and fell from the ceiling. The wooden floor scorched in his passing, such was the power emanating from Harry.

" Where are you going? What's happened?" Suddenly Hermione knew. In her heart, she knew. She knew where he was going. She knew what he intended to do,... and fear tore at her heart. She tried desperately to reach him knowing it was already too late.

"Please Harry, wait!" Oblivious to any potential danger, she pounded after him down the hallway. Plaster continued to rain down on her from the ceiling above. If Harry had heard her than he showed no sign of it, his pace never slowed for an instant.

Harry heard Hermione's desperate pleas from behind. The fear in her voice wrenched at his heart, but he could not, would not, allow himself to be distracted. Any delay and Ginny was as good as dead. She could be dead all ready, but he couldn't let his mind go there. He plowed down the stairs, as friends and family were already gathering in the foyer below, responding to Hermione's impassioned pleas from above. He was dimly aware of them. To his conscious mind they were no more than obstacles that blocked his passage to the outside. He would never harm them, not for anything, but he would not be slowed by them either. Ginny had no time. Delay was a luxury that he could ill afford.

"Harry? Hey George, Ron, everyone, it's Harry, he's awake!" Hermione heard Fred's voice call up from the landing below as she neared the top of the stair.

" Stop him! Please God, somebody stop him!" She wailed desperately."

"Hermione, what.. Harry?" Ron's stunned voice answered from the foyer below. Ron had just entered the room and with one look at Harry's face... he knew. He knew in his heart where his friend was going and what he intended to do. He knew by the way that his green eyes smoldered and the power that radiated from him palpable, shocking even. One look at him told volumes. How he knew, Ron couldn't guess, but, hey, this was Harry after all. It was there in his eyes. Harry knew about Ginny, knew it all.

Ron could never remember a time when he was ever afraid of Harry, till he saw the dread purpose that was etched in every fiber of his being as Harry vaulted down the stairs toward the outside door that stood on the other side of him and his brothers. He'd been alerted by Hermione's desperate wails as she pleaded from the second floor… "Please Harry, stop... Think about what you're doing. Stop him! Please God, somebody stop him!" There was something in her voice that moved him as never before. It was something that he'd never thought that he would ever here in her voice- terror. She was terrified, but not of Harry, but rather, for him. Ron steeled his resolve.

"You lot get behind me" Ron shouted at his brothers.

A smile ghosted across Harry's face as he watched Fred and George take flanking positions behind Ron, with Bill and Charlie bringing up the rear. From the corner of his eye, he saw Moody, Tonks, Lupin and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley crowding the doorway that led from the sitting room. A look of abject terror was mirrored in Mrs. Weasley's eyes as she fidgeted and twisted her apron in her hands, watching the spectacle unfold. Their concern for him was etched in their features, but he must not, could not, let himself be swayed from his purpose. A breathless Hermione was almost on top of him as he slowed ever so slightly when he hit the landing in front of the waiting Weasley brothers.

This was his family, the only people that had ever truly loved him, but Ginny had no time.

"Step aside, Ron." he ordered in a frigid tone.

Ron's eyes were grim with determination as he drew his wand and simply said, "No"

A soft rasping sound followed his words as the rest of the Weasley brothers drew their wands behind Ron.

Harry was struggling to maintain his hold. He didn't know how much longer he could contain the power that was surging from within his very soul, crying, screaming for release. Though grim, his next words carried a note of desperation. "There's no time to explain.. Voldemort's got her. If I'm not there within the hour,.. she's d-dead!" His voice cracked at that last. Ron's face visibly palled. There was a nervous shuffle of feet behind him as Harry's words sunk in,.. but no one moved. The brothers stood their ground barring his way. Harry seethed, "Didn't you hear me he's got her, he'll kill..." "She's dead already, and you know it." Though his eyes were the reflection of pain,Ron's voice was steel.

Mrs. Weasley sobbed at the finality of her son's words. There was a faint whimper from behind him that alerted Harry of Hermione's having arrived and her painful shock at Ron's harsh, but obvious revelation.

Waves of heat pulsated from Harry as he started to move forward. Ron and his brothers raised their wands in warning.

" Don't make us do it Harry, please?" He pleaded in warning.

Harry was still surging forward when he felt a wand poke him in the small of his back, his head swiveled around to look deeply into Hermione's impassioned eyes. "You too?" His voice was accusing, caustic.

Tears welled in her eyes and she shook them away, her wand held firmly in her hand.

"You know it's a trap. Voldemort will never let her live, if he hasn't killed her already. We won't let you throw your life away too. We love you too much Harry." She could no longer hold back her tears as they streamed down her face in a torrent and she added in a faint whisper," I'm sorry, Harry... so sorry."

There was the merest flicker of pain and loss in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived, replaced by grim resolve. Harry turned back toward the brothers, ignoring Hermione's growing sobs from behind.

" Step aside!" he demanded as he stepped forward.

"Take him!" Ron bellowed.

The Weasley brother's wands shot forward as one, but Harry just swiped his hand through the air and their wands flew from their hands and clattered down the hallway, well out of reach.

Ron and his brothers gasped, staring dumbly at their suddenly empty, pain filled hands.

All but forgotten, Hermione screamed "_stupefy_" from behind, but a golden shield shimmered into being and reflected her spell back onto its source. Her eyes went wide and tongue lolled as she slumped unconscious to the floor.

"Hermione! Damn it all, Harry!" Ron shouted angrily at his friend. "We won't let you kill yourself. Get him!" Ron and his brothers surged forward and threw themselves bodily at Harry, attempting to drag him down by sheer weight of numbers.

The scene would have been laughable if it wasn't taking place under such tragic circumstances. Harry continued to plow forward, undaunted by the mass of Weasley bodies that swarmed over him. He was a juggernaut, unstoppable. He looked like an adult on a playground, with toddlers clinging to his appendages as they struggled to drag him under. He was dimly aware of shouting voices and straining grunts of denial, with a growl of, "Ouch, bugger it Fred, that's my leg!"

He was at the doorway, reaching for the handle when a gentle, but firm hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, halting his progress. Harry's eyes blazed emerald fire, irritated by this last distraction from his dread purpose. His eyes followed the hand's arm leading up to the tear stained face of ,... Mrs. Weasley. Her eyes were deep brown and filled with despair and love. They held love for him. They were just like Ginny's eyes.

Despite himself ,he paused uncertainly.

The power he was emanating cooled ever so slightly. He could hear the brothers scuffling footsteps as they retreated. He felt the tug of their hands pulling away from his arms and legs. Harry heard Ron's gentle voice in the background trying to revive Hermione. All the while he was held captive by Mrs. Weasley's kind and loving eyes.

Harry's face was a storm of conflicting emotions. He glanced furtively at the beaconing doorway. Sensing his thoughts, Mrs. Weasley grasped his shoulders and fixed him with her most mothering glare. Her voice was hauntingly tender.

" None of my children have ever knowingly defied me Harry. Are you going to be the first?"

Her question both shamed and humbled him. Mrs. Weasley had welcomed him into her home, made him a part of her own family without the slightest trepidation. Her family had shown him nothing but love, and all he had ever brought into their lives was fear and danger. He wanted nothing more than to crawl away and die under a rock somewhere. Despite her own pain over Ginny's impending doom, she still tried to soothe and comfort him.

"I love my daughter. We all love Ginny and we would do anything to have her here safely with us,but,.. I could never sacrifice one of my children for another."

Harry's legs gave out and he fell to his knees sobbing in despair

Through his terrible pain and grief he could still feel her gentle kiss on his forehead, before she moved off and fell into Mr. Weasley's waiting arms. Remus was at his side now, speaking words of comfort. Hermione and Ron joined him shedding tears of their own. He could feel their arms wend their way around his shoulders. In the midst of their sorrow over losing their family's youngest member, he could feel their love and support surround him. Harry could feel his heart breaking from both joy and pain. Distantly he heard the sitting room clock chime half past- his world changed.

A strange calmness washed over him. Harry had never felt more at peace with himself. A soft golden aura surrounded his body and seemed to pulse in rhythm with the beating of his own heart. A melodious song filled the room and the muffled sobs and sniffling from the others ebbed away as they too felt a stirring sense of courage and hope wash over them.

Remus Lupin started when he felt an odd tingling sensation. He looked down at his hands where the grasped Harry's shoulders and was surprised to see golden waves of energy pulse from Harry's body and into his own hands. He cried out in sudden shock as a jolt of wrenching pain coursed through his body. He felt a tearing away from within. Remus fell to his side gasping and twitching as within the throes of a seizure.

" Remus!" Hermionee gasped as she and Ron moved from Harry to aide their former professor.

Lupin's thrashing subsided and he struggled to assure his friends, "I'm ok,.. I'm...I'm... freeee..." was all he had managed to gasp before he slumped into unconsciousness

A sudden scrabbling sounded from behind that heralded Harry's renewed attempt to elope. _Too late_, Hermione realized her mistake as she twisted back toward Harry, her long hair whipping across Ron's face as dawning fear registered in his eyes as well.

A peel of thunder blasted through the hall and the front door blew outward. Harry was already up and moving through the door before his friends could so much as think to jinx him. Hermione was shrieking for help. Ron bellowing for him to stop, but he could feel it within his very bones.

_The time of destiny was upon him and he would risk no more of their lives. Ginny would be the last to suffer at Voldemort's hands, no matter what -she would be the last._

Just as he'd reached the relative freedom that the sidewalk afforded, he stopped and turned toward his friends for one last look. Words could not express the depth of his feeling for them, but he had to try before he lost himself in the raging inferno that he could feel building within him. A power was growing within the core of his being. It was building, surging, screaming for release. Before he could begin to even think what was beginning to happen, it was upon him.

His eyes were as green fire and golden flames sprang to life and danced along the contours of his body. The air around his family felt as though it would ignite any moment as waves of heat crashed into them and held them at bay. A raging inferno swirled and crackled around them, holding them captivated within its whirling embrace. The flames tickled and tantalized, but did no damage.

The heat itself was not oppressive, but oddly soothing and comforting .The brothers chortled and laughed as the flames licked and tickled at their exposed flesh. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley held each other in a tearful embrace, staring longingly into each other's eyes. Ron and Hermione were locked in a passionate kiss as the flames of Harry's love lapsed over them. Harry knew that no words could express the depth of his feelings for this, his family. No words were needed for now they could feel for themselves what he had always felt for them.

Harry sighed regretfully as he pulled the flames back within himself and returned his family to the crisp coldness of the night that all too soon rushed in to claim them within its frigid embrace. There were gasps and all eyes turned to him as his words entered their minds.

_**Remember**_

Phoenix song filled the night air and with a blinding burst of golden light; aphoenixrose into the night sky. This was the true phoenix of legend. It was the power of creation- love incarnate.


	5. Chapter 5: The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of this story or characters.**

**Chapter Five: The Beginning of the End**

"George, you and Fred see to Remus. Bill alert the Order, I want everyone here, now! Charlie you use the floo and get a hold of Kingsley Shacklebolt at the ministry. Tell him to bring every auror he can spare, including the one's he can't." Mr. Weasley's barked commands brought them from their trance as many still stood transfixed , watching the bird of flame soar through the night sky. He could feel Molly's trembling hand grasp his own, but she would have to wait.

"Hermione?... **Hermione**!" he winced at the harshness in his voice, at seeing her startle and pull her eyes away from the sky and back toward the sound of his voice, but, there was no time if they were to have any chance of saving their two lost children. " I'm sorry dear, but I need you to cast a tracking spell on Harry if you can. Ron, contact Headmistress McGonagall at Hogwarts, tell her it's on for tonight, she'll know what that means."

As his children hurried to obey, Arthur Weasley looked down into the tear stained face of his wife . Her eyes were pleading, searching his own for some answer, one he feared that she already knew.

"What... What was that Arthur? What has Harry done?" Her voice rasped through shuddering sobs.

He wished with all his heart that he could lie. In all the years that they had been married, for the first time since he had known that he loved this woman with all his heart, he wished he could tell her a lie, tell her anything that might save her more pain. Molly stiffened in his arms, her fear rising at his trepidation.

"Arthur love, what is it?"

His eyes held a sense of wonder and pain as he looked deeply into his wife's eyes, clutched her hands to his heart and said, "**Phoenix Fire**"_. _

Molly Weasley's scream of despair shattered the night.

Harry landed, skidding to a halt before the rusted gate of a once proud estate, now dilapidated from years of abuse and disrepair. The right side of the gate hung open on its hinge, a tarnished sign proclaimed the property as Greystone Manor. Some hundred yards ahead the front door of the manor house stood ajar, a soft glow beckoned from within.

_Anything but inviting, _he thought sourly.

Reluctantly, he released the _fire_ that continued to swell up from the core of his being. The golden flames receded and snuffed out of existence. He swayed for a moment, suddenly lightheaded and unsteady, fighting back the weariness that now washed over him. The chill air of the early Christmas morn, sent shivers down his spine. Harry hadn't exactly planned for the weather by dressing for the elements, on this impulsive venture, but, at least the chill air had cleared his head. He took a last brief look at the night sky hoping to find a glimmer of Sirius's star, but already the stars were fading from view as the first streaks of gray, that heralded dawn's arrival, were forming on the horizon.

Frosted cobblestones crunched lightly under his feet as he walked calmly forward toward the waiting manor door.

_Soon,_ he thought, _soon I'll be reunited with my friends and family- forever. _

Harry had no illusions that he would survive to see another Christmas morn, this would be his last. Summoning the _fire_ had been an incredible drain, one that he could feel in the hollow pit of his very being. He felt tired and nauseous, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week. There was no time to recover his strength and to call the _fire_ forth again would most certainly use up the rest of his life force in its entirety. He would have to bide his time till the right moment, he'd only get a single shot at this.

His hand closed over the familiar feel of his wand. He'd have to rely on his own meager resources until he found Ginny, then all bets were off and he could unleash the _Phoenix_ for the second and last time tonight. The creak of ancient wooden floors brought him from his grim thoughts-he'd reached the doorway. He could see furtive movements from within the manor. Steeling his resolve, Harry stepped through the door..

Grimauld Place

"Does everyone know what's at stake?"

A murmur of assent shifted thru the crowd gathered within the manor's entertainment hall. The holiday decorations once warm and inviting, a symbol of peace and goodwill, now stood out in dark contrast against the fierce tension that was building within Grimauld place.

Arthur Weasley raised his hand and the crowd fell silent again, awaiting final instruction.

"Hermione was able to track Harry to the eastern coast near Drummond, but she lost him before we could get an exact fix on his location. I believe we've been able to narrow it down to a few square miles. We'll apparate in pairs and sweep the coast from north to south on brooms. If you see anything suspicious, send green sparks in the air and all teams are to converge on that location. Do not engage until everyone is present. I know this sounds strange people, but, if you see a large bird of flame- **a phoenix **, then send up red sparks and everyone get out of the area. Fly, apparate, anything! Just get as far away as you can, as fast as you can. There's no time to explain this now, just remember- if you see a **phoenix**- send up red sparks and move like bloody hell!"

Rumblings went thru the gathered throng , most not knowing what was more surprising, Mr. Weasley's cryptic warning or having heard him actually swear.

"W-What about Harry?" a voice called out from within the crowd.

Mr. Weasley's face paled slightly. Fighting down a lump in his throat he struggled to keep his voice steady and not betray his own rising sense of dread.

"If you see a bird of flame rising into the air... then there is no more Harry."

In response ,the crowd fell deathly silent, except for the muffled sobs of Molly and Hermionee.

"I'm sorry people but, er... given recent events, I would have to say that the possibility of Harry's surviving this final confrontation is very remote."

Ripples of denial and fear murmured thru the crowd, all but drowned out by the wails of despair from his wife and Hermione. His heart went out to them. He selfishly wanted nothing more than to comfort them and in return be comforted by them, but they had delayed long enough.

Grateful that his sons had moved to calm his wife and their surrogate daughter, Arthur continued loudly.

"Listen people! We all knew this time would come It's now, this very morning. For myself, I can think of no better time to end this reign of evil than on Christmas Day. Harry has found the way. Are we going to hide in our homes under the pretense of celebrating peace and good will or are we going to support him in this final conflict and ensure a peaceful future for ourselves and our families. As for me and my family, we intend to fight!"

Roars of defiance answered his stirring speech as the gathered throng began filing out of Grimauld Place to take the fight to their hated enemy.

**GREYSTONE MANOR**

As Harry stepped thru the manor door it slammed shut behind him and a series of locks magically engaged, rudely announcing that any ideas of departure were not an option. A brief smile of grim amusement etched his features. The smile was quickly replaced by a scowl of displeasure at the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange's mad cackling. Lestrange was languidly draped across an antique loveseat, idly twirling her wand between her fingers.

"Merry Christmas- wee potty. I do so hope you enjoy the festivities we've planned for your amusement."

Harry calmly walked toward her, not bothering to raise his wand. His eyes strayed momentarily to the arched doorway behind her right shoulder. From his vantage point he could see gray flagstone stairs descending into darkness from just beyond the archway.

Noticing the train of his vision, Lestrangr seized the opportunity to torment him further. Mayhem danced in her cold gray eyes. Her lips were curled in a cruel sneer."Yes, my brave young knight, your lady-fair doth wait for you to save her from yon dungeon chamber. Alas, however, I fear you will be too late as the hour of her demise draws near and you have yet to win her hand in combat!"

She began to rise from her perch on the loveseat and with slow deliberation, draw her wand from within the folds of her night black robes.

Harry's eyes flashed green fire. His pace never slowed as he continued to move toward her. Before Lestrange could fully brandish her wand, Harry gave but the merest flick of his wrist and sent a powerful _bludgeoning curse _that caught Lestrange in the midriff and sent her careening across the sitting room until she embedded bodily into the plaster wall with a sickening "**crunch**". Her eyes clouded over and she choked and gagged on her own life's blood, trying to form a coherent plea for mercy.

Harry passed her broken form without a second glance, mirthlessly stating,"Merry Christmas from the Longbottoms, you sick cow."

He passed thru the archway and descended the dank stairway focusing on the faint glimpse of distant torchlight some several stories down. He did not bother to light his wand, feeling no need to further announce his arrival to his waiting foes. Though the number was dwindling, Harry had no doubt that there would be more Death Eaters at Voldemort's command, waiting below. There couldn't be more than fifteen or twenty minutes left of his allotted hour in which to save Ginny, despite that, he dared not run blindly into the fray. His own premature death would do nothing to prevent hers as well. He could feel the _fire_ begin to ignite within his core, but he fought it down. He would have to see Ginny safely away before he gave himself over to it's power for this final confrontation.

Harry emerged squinting into a torch lit stone chamber with a slightly raised dais at its center. Ginny's still form was sprawled across the dias. The walls of the chamber were covered with manacles and a broad selection of cruelly shaped blades and other devices that were no doubt meant for various forms of torture.

"No doubt your favorite room." Harry called coolly to the leering form of Voldemort sitting on an ornately carved oaken throne stationed just above the raised dais on a stone balcony.

"I'll stand for none of your characteristic cheek-Potter. Soon you'll be writhing on the floor at my feet, begging for mercy. It is Christmas after all, perhaps I shall be lenient and allow you to remain in soulless slumber along with your, er.. girlfriend,… is it?"

Harry strode forward toward the dais, his eyes fixed on Ginny's limp form, ignoring the four Death Eaters in flanking position on either side of the chamber. He knelt down at her side and grasped her cool hand. His taught shoulders visibly relaxed when his searching fingers detected a faint pulse on her wrist. " The antidote?" he inquired, not bothering to raise his eyes to look into Riddles baleful gaze and reptilian features.

Cold rasping laughter echoed, not un-expectantly, throughout the chamber. "Ah., as to that. I'm afraid that Bellatrix was a bit overzealous in her efforts and did not quite properly prepare a viable antidote for your young lass, however, be encouraged that we still have plenty of the _draught of living death _prepared if you are in a hurry to join her? I believe you had the pleasure of meeting Bellatrix on your way here. She is..."

" She's dead." Harry interrupted flatly.

Voldemort's ember eyes blazed and his slit nostrils flared in rage. Harry met his gaze coolly. Green eyes bored into red. Both held the other's gaze with the utmost contempt and loathing. Moments seemed like hours before Voldemort faltered and nodded slightly to one of his Death Eaters, who ran from the chamber to check on the validity of Harry's claim to Lestrange's demise.

Harry could feel the _fire _raging beneath his calm exterior. It begged, screamed, it demanded release! He held his wand above her chest and softly whispered _, "Portis Grimauld Place momento,"_

Frigid chuckling sounded from his foe as he wrongly guessed that Harry was trying to use his wand to revive Ginny.

"You waist your breath,Potter. No known magic, other than the antidote given within the hour, can restore someone who suffers the _living death_. Not even your much vaunted power of love", He sneered at this last. "She is lost to you for all time, not that it will matter to you, moments from now."

Harry ignored his taunts and pressed his warming wand into Ginny's cold hands. Slowly, excruciatingly he released a trickle of the _Phoenix fire _that was surging within him. He leaned over and tenderly kissed Ginny's forehead, releasing a tender thread of his power into her pale form. He leaned back and held his breath in anticipation. Finally with a sigh of relief, she began to regain some of her color. A warm smile etched his features as he let his lips brushed softly against Ginny's.

" That's right Potter- kiss her good bye!" Volemort taunted unknowingly.

"Remember my love for you Ginny...always." Harry whispered to her.

At the sound of Harry's voice, Ginny began to stir. Her eyelids fluttered and a soft moan escaped her lips. Harry's muscles coiled tightly in anticipation.

Ginny's eyes snapped open.

Voldemort jumped out of his chair seething in outrage."No! It's not possible?"

Harry's eyes were emerald fire, but Ginny saw only love and compassion within their smoldering depths . Faint notes of _phoenix song _echoed thru the stone chamber. Despite the eminent danger, their gaze was only for each other. Nothing else existed in the world for this briefest of moments. There was such love and affection in her eyes that Harry could feel his heart breaking with the desperate need to be with her always, but, it wasn't to be. A golden tear fell from his blazing green eyes as he choked out the words, "Goodbye my love... _portus activus."_

His wand flashed sapphire as the port key activated.

"Harrrrryyy.…!" A last desperate wail escaped Ginny's lips as she felt herself being pulled away.

Voldemort screamed in rage.

Death Eaters filled the room.

Harry released the _fire._

**Grimauld Place**

Arthur Weasley was poised to give the command to apparate, to rows of waiting wizards and witches when a familiar voice screaming….

"**Harrryyyy…!**", burst from within the confines of Grimauld Place.

Mr. Weasley's eyes were fixed upon the entrance to Grimauld Place his mouth working noiselessly. His face a mask of conflicting emotions as he weighed his personal desire to see to his family's own well-being , rather than leading the assembled magic folk in a mad ,desperate attempt to not only see Voldemort and his minions destroyed, but to save Harry from himself. If Harry had truly found it within himself to call forth the _Phoenix Fire _of legend, than not only his enemies, but Harry himself, was in the gravest of danger.

Arthur wished for the umpteenth time tonight that Remus was with him. He sorely needed his friendly werewolf's sage advice, but Remus was still unconscious after his brief encounter with Harry. The gathered throng began to shuffle nervously, growing tense over Mr. Weasley's delay coupled with the muffled, but rising commotion taking place within Grimauld Place. Arthur Weasley was relieved when the decision to stand down, albeit momentarily, had been made for him by his son's timely interruption.

Charlie Weasley burst through the door shouting , "Dad,.. Dad, come inside- **quick**… Ginny's back !"

A hush quiet fell over those assembled as they immediately parted to allow Arthur Weasley a clear path to the house. He paused a moment, uncertain, he already knew the answer he'd receive, but had to ask,

" Harry ?"

Charlie stopped in his tracks tensing, all excitement drained from his face as he paused to shake his head- no. Mr. Weasley's eyes grew hard, his jaw set as he grimly nodded his understanding. He paused for a moment to whisper something to Mad Eye before he addressed his comrades.

"Stand down a moment. There's, er… been a development. Mad Eye is in charge for the time being."

Arthur Weasley brushed his way thru the gathered assembly and followed his nervous son into the house. The fact alone that Charlie, of all his sons, was acting so nervous did not bode well for what he would find inside Grimauld Place. What he did find was... heart breaking.

Molly rushed into his arms, shrieking one moment, sobbing the next.

"Oh Arthur. Oh my God... Ginny... she's... she's..." her sobs forced her to trail off.

His robe was already growing damp, stained with his beloved wife's tears. She shakily raised her hand and pointed in the direction of the staircase where his eldest son, Bill, was pacing back and forth, worriedly running his hands through his hair. Ron was standing off to the side of the stair with his hands in his pockets sniffling softly, his eyes tear stained. Hermione was kneeling on the floor of the recessed alcove beneath the stairway. Her voice was gentle, soothing, trying desperately to coax someone to come out from beneath the stair well.

Arthur nodded his eldest son over and gentle passed Molly into her son's arms. Woodenly, he made his way toward the stair well both hopeful and dreading what he knew he'd find there. As he closed the distance toward Ron and Hermione, he could hear the faintest of whimpering coming from beneath the stair.

Arthur Weasley knew from whose lips that mournful sound was coming, he'd dried away those tears many times before in years past. This sound was different though. This was not the sound of a bruised knee or a cut lip. Not the frightened whimpers of a night mare already fading from memory as her father shushed away her tears and checked under her bed for monsters. No, this was the sound brought of fear; the fear that came of terrible loss and heart wrenching, all consuming grief.

"Please honey, please come out." Hermione cooed between her own tears. "Please Ginny, there still could be a chance, please help us find him."

"**It's too late!" **An agonized voice ripped out from beneath the stair.

Arthur Weasley paled at the sound of his daughter's desolate voice**. **Thewords had sounded as if they had been torn from her very throat.

Hermionee was clutching at herself trembling, trying vainly to control her own rising fear and pain. She had thought Ron's hand was at her shoulder trying to offer support, urging her on. Hermione was startled at first when she turned ever so slightly, expecting to give her boyfriend a nod of gratitude, only to find Mr. Weasley's hands upon her shoulders. Her eyes went wide then softened when she beheld the grateful compassion etched on his kind face. The tears she had been fighting to hold back overwhelmed her flagging control. He gentled her up into his youngest son's waiting arms and knelt in her place on the floor. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness beneath the stairwell, once they had focused, he wished for blindness.

He had half expected Ginny's clothing to be torn. Her body to be covered with bruises, welts, blood stains, any and all signs of ill use by rough hands. What he now saw beneath the stair was worse. Her clothes were intact. No evidence of rough treatment marred her delicate, freckled features. But her eyes? Merlin's blood... **her eyes**!

Ginny's beautiful brown eyes were desperate, haunted. They looked as if they had once gazed into the gates of heaven before being cast down into the very depths of hell. Arthur Weasley had never shed tears in front of his children. Tears had been saved for the late quiet of night when all of his precious offspring were safe in their beds. Now, he fought desperately at the prickling sensation growing at the corners of his eyes. Ginny was in need of his calm strength, not tears.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as her father lowered himself toward her beneath the stairwell. Though momentarily shaken when he spied Harry's wand clutched tightly in his Daughter's hands, Arthur quickly recovered himself.

He held out his arms and softly whispered, "Ginny love..?"

Merlin's blessings must have been upon him as he quickly found his arms filled with his daughter's trembling form. She sobbed into his chest burrowing her face deeper and deeper into his tender embrace. Gently he rocked his daughter back and forth whilst brushing his hand thru her hair and cooing softly to her. After a few minutes her shuddering sobs faded and her breathing slowed. He didn't want to press her , not now. Time was growing short. Of questions- he had many, and answers were in short supply. Thankfully, Hermione had remained nearby. She found the strength to ask what he could not. Haltingly she fought down her own tears and asked,

"Please Ginny, Harry's wand... i-is he... is Harry dead?"

Ginny went still in her father's arms, she shook her head trying to deny her barely whispered words,

"N-No... but he's as good as."

She'd barely uttered the words before a fresh wave of tears broke from her eyes. Hermione had lost what tenuous restraint she had been maintaining as she fell sobbing into Ron's waiting arms.

Arthur Weasley steeled himself and pressed forward.

"I know this has been terrible, Ginny... but please if there's any chance for Harry? Please tell me what's happened, anything you can recall? "

Ginny choked back her sobs and struggled to find her breath as she recounted her brief memories of the last few days.

"I-I was at King's Cross Station coming home for the holiday. The barrier...I saw mum and Bill waiting. I-I was almost thru and something grabbed me and pulled me away. I wanted so badly to come home, to see all of you... to see Harry. " she broke down in fresh sobs at having spoken his name.

Her father rocked her in his arms and hated himself for doing this to her, now when her pain was so fresh, but dam it all, he had another son out there who needed him, and make no mistake; Harry was as much his son as if her were his own blood!

His voice was soft, but pressing, "Ginny?"

She nodded against his chest and fought down her anguish to continue.

"I thought I was dreaming. That I'd wake up in my own bed Christmas morning. I-I woke up in a cold stone chamber with torch lit walls that were covered with chains and o-other things..." she shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"That mad cow Lestrange was standing over me, she was laughing in that sick way of hers."

She paused again to fight down a shudder of revulsion. "Some others; black cloaks, masks... Death Eaters? I don't know who they were, but th-they held me down and ... and forced me to drink the _draught of living death _!"

Arthur went pale. All color left his face at this revelation. He could here his wife sobbing openly. Even his son's were sniffling and shuffling their feet somewhere from behind. He shook himself from his dread thoughts and held his precious daughter by her shoulders, scrutinizing her with a critical glare. "But, they must have given you the antidote?"

Ginny couldn't get out the words, could only scrunch up her tear- stained eyes and shook her head.

His head was spinning. She couldn't have had the _draught_?She would have had to have the antidote within an hour or she would be unconscious- comatose, lost for all time!

A thought, impossible though it seemed, occurred to Mr. Weasley.

"Did Harry give you anything to drink?"

She shook her head and tears flew from her eyes.

Mr. Weasley was desperate with fear for his child. He willed her to talk, shaking her by the shoulders, yelling at her to say anything that would allay his growing sense of dread. "He must have! What do you remember? **Tell me !**"

Ginny cowered before her father's desperate harshness. She had never seen him this way-never! Her lips were trembling. Tears continued to leak from eyes that had no moisture left to give. She bit at her lower lip, trying to hold her memories to herself. Her eyes were desperately seeking some avenue of escape. She did not want to remember, but knew she could never forget.

Seeing the painful denial in his daughter's eyes spoke volumes. She had no explanation to give, but she remembers, and what she remembers is bringing her agony. Arthur Weasley's anger brought of fear had evaporated, replaced with shame and pain. The pain that only a father could know when his child's heart was breaking and he could do nothing but listen and give what comfort was his to give.

He opened his arms to her. His voice was soft, gentle, pleading, "Tell me, Pumpkin?"

Ginny hesitated; she struggled to hold back the flood gates of this last precious memory before the dam broke. Her strength failed and she fell into her father's waiting arms and her words tumbled forth in a torrent.

"Everything was black and cold. No sound, no light-nothing! I heard his voice and I felt such warmth, warmth like I'd never thought to feel again. I opened my eyes and… and... Oh, daddy!" a sob escaped her throat and she shuddered violently.

He tried to sooth her, to tell her it was alright, that she needn't go on, but Ginny shook her head violently and continued.

"It was Harry! He was holding me in his arms. His eyes, oh his eyes! There was such love there. I could feel it! I could feel his love all around me. Others were there... Death Eaters and... Him…" her voice turned to ice. "He was there too, somewhere above us. Voldemort was furious. He was threatening us, screaming but.. I- I wasn't afraid. I could hear _Phoenix song?_ It was echoing through the chamber, surrounding me, filling me. I- I've never felt such peace and contentment. All I could think of was Harry. I didn't care what happened. I was lost in his eyes. I could see myself in his eyes. He told me he loved me. I was going to say that I loved him too, but t-then he said goodbye and I could feel myself pulling away. The next thing I knew, I was here. I could hear mum screaming my name, but I was screaming for Harry at the same time. I-I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I-I wanted to say goodbye... Oh daddy…"with a last gasping sob she went still, and her breathing slowed. Ginny had fainted and her father was grateful for it.

He lifted her sleeping form easily into his arms and carried her to the stairs. Molly flew to his side, her hand gently brushed Ginny's hair from her forehead. Her mother leaned over and gently kissed her unconscious daughter's forehead. Somewhere in the distant, cloudless night, thunder rumbled ominously.


	6. Chapter 6: The Phoenix and the Snake

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Chapter Six: The Phoenix and the Snake **

"The war is over , Tom ... you lost. I tell you what though; if the lot of you drop your wands and turn yourselves in to the ministry , I'll put in a good word for you with the authorities. With luck, you just might get off with life in Azkaban."

Voldemort's jaw worked soundlessly, his eyes red slits of molten fury. After a few moments his eyes cooled and he threw back his head and howled in mocking laughter.

" War ended? Surrender? Prison? Oh Potter, you are quite desperate to avoid a fight, aren't you? Dear boy,.. anyone can plainly see that you don't even have a wand in your possession. You're weaponless!"

A slow smile spread over Harry's face until it reached his sparkling green eyes. The faint notes of phoenix song began to rise to a crescendo. A rich golden hued glow surrounded his body. It emanated from his core and built in intensity till it's light filled even the most heavily shadowed corner of the subterranean chamber they were in. The surrounding Death Eaters cringed back in terror, suddenly feeling less confident about their chances .

"Your wrong, Tom - I am the weapon." Harry's voice boomed in challenge.

"**Kill Him !**" Voldemort raged.

As much as his lackey's feared the unknown power that was radiating from their would be victim- they feared Voldemort's wrath more. The Death Eaters brandished their wands and cast a barrage of killing curses at Harry, who for his part, smiled grimly and watched the volley of green lighted death hiss thru the air in his direction. Moments became hours as he waited patiently, gathering energy from the core of his being. He pulled on the deep affection he felt for his friends and family, but most of all he focused on the unending source of love that he held for Ginny within his very soul. Just as the Death Eater's curses were about to make contact , he channeled his gathered energy outward and sphere of crackling, golden energy enveloped his being. The killing curse's struck and rebounded from the spherical shield , sending them streaking back toward their original sources. Screams of fear and panic gripped the chamber as some of the Death Eaters dived for cover, whilst others dropped their wands and ran outright from the chamber. Many chose to fight another day or just embraced their own cowardice. A few unlucky soles fell to the chamber floor with dull thuds, having fallen victim to their own murderous intentions.

The glowing sphere of energy faded and within moments it winked from existence, revealing a fatigued but determined Harry Potter . His robes were soaked with sweat and he was panting from his efforts, but fierce defiance radiated from blazing, emerald fire eyes. He had not as yet, fully released his hold on the _phoenix fire_, evident by the faint echoes of _phoenix song_ that chimed thru the chamber's air.

Voldemort was shrieking orders at his few remaining Death Eaters still present.. He promised them any number of gruesome fates if they failed to kill his enemy, but he made not the slightest effort to challenge Harry, himself.

Ignoring Voldemort's rants, Harry addressed the remaining Death Eaters. His voice deadly calm within the dank confines of this now, stony tomb. " Turn yourselves in and you may yet live. Stay, and you will surely die. You may think to run as some have your number have done already- forget it. Their freedom is an illusion . They will be found and exterminated. I know who they are, each and every one of them... Crabbe, Drutters, Morvis ,.. Just as I know the names of those of you who remain, Gavlyn, Balustrode , Zane and Collins."

The dark meaning behind his words was not lost upon the remaining Death Eaters present. Feet shuffled nervously as the remaining Death Eaters considered their options. Some looked hopefully to their former master for guidance. They needn't have bothered, Voldemort was glued to the wall at the rear of his dais, reduced to a state of utter madness as evident by his mumbling incoherently . His once handsome face was now contorted in a bizarre mockery of it's former self. He was living evidence of the twisted wreck that he'd made of his life, over shadowing his formally promising youth. Harry gave them no time to try and summon their last dregs of what courage they may have ever possessed.

" Drop your wands and leave, now! Do not look to that wretch to save your sorry arse's . His madness is at an end."

Wands clattered on the flagstone flooring as the last vestiges of Voldemort's once formidable army abandoned their broken master to his fate. The former Death Eaters made for the distant stairway, hoping desperately that the world still held some mercy for men such as they. Voldemort's ranting ceased and his feral eyes bulged hatefully as he watched his last followers abandon him. A guttural scream of "_Avadera Kedavra_", tore from his lips and a green streak of death was aimed ,not at Harry, but at the backs of his retreating followers. The curse caught Gavlyn in the back just as he had made it to the stairway and his now short-lived freedom waiting beyond. He slumped to the floor , his eyes vacant-lifeless. Harry felt no pity for him. Most likely his demise would prove a blessing compared to the miserable life that awaited him imprisoned in Azkaban. At least Gavlyn had shown some small measure of honor by choosing to cease hostilities and turn himself in, unlike his wretched former master. Harry turned to face Voldemort secure in the knowledge that it would be for the last time.

**Grimauld Place**

Arthur Weasley kissed the top of his wife's head and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they stood vigil over their sleeping daughter. When Ginny had revived from her recent fainting spell, she had been near hysterical in her terror over Harry's impending fate. It had taken much coaxing and reassurance before Ginny had relented and taken the proffered dose of _dreamless sleep potion_. Moments later her whimpering had abated and her breathing deepened as she drifted off to sleep. Neither of her parents had been successful in removing Harry's wand that she still held , clutched tightly to her breast in a death lock.

The sky outside her window , showed the first gray hues of dawn's approach. Sadly , Arthur turned to leave on what he knew was most likely going to be a recovery mission-not a rescue, but they had to try. There still was hope as this was Harry ,after all.

"Arthur..." ,his wife called softly, he paused, but really could not afford to delay in his departure. The look on his beautiful wife's face was such that his breath caught in his throat. Her plump, rosy features were now pale, stained with the tracks of many fallen tears. Molly's deep brown eyes were vacant and glassy. Her voice was no more than a hollow whisper as she spoke to him.

"Stay with your family, Arthur. We both no there's no hope f-for..." Her voice failed her.

He could not mask the shock he felt at hearing these words. Of all the things he had expected to pass from her lips, Arthur Weasley had never thought to hear the mother of his children give up on one of her own, and make no mistake, Harry was one of their own.

" But,. Molly dear,.. Harry could still be...?"

" He's dead." She finished mobidly. Molly closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She did not know what caused her more pain; the finality of her statement and what it meant for their family.. their daughter, or the fact that she had actually uttered these words, and meant them.

" Molly,… We can't just give up on the boy? Even if Harry's found a way to call up the _fire,.. _if such a thing is truly possible, he may yet survive. This is Harry were talking about, he'll find a way,.. he always finds a way."" His voice trailed off as his hopes waned upon seeing the sad resolution in his dear wife's eyes.

" Not this time, Arthur. Harry has found a way to end this madness, and he's using it now, even as we speak. It's fueled through his great love for Ginny." She gasped before continuing. She was afraid for her daughter, knowing what a future without Harry in it, would mean for Ginny. "Harry found a way to call the _phoenix fire _and he used it to save her life as only he could. If he could have returned with her, he would have. You know he would have, Arthur. The fact that he didn't tells me one thing- Harry's not finished . He's wand-less," She nodded toward their sleeping daughter and the evidence still rigidly held within Ginny's hands, "wand-less, but still using magic. Wondrous, powerful, fantastic and yet, terrible magic. Even at the height of his powers, Dumbledore himself, could not perform wandless magic. Harry's using the _fire , _and soon it will be using him. He used it to save Ginny, .. and now he's using it to put an end to this nightmare, once and for all. Power of that magnitude has a terrible price and well you know it. The _fire _is going to burn it's way through Harry's magic, and then it's going to burn it's way through him, through his very soul, until there's nothing left of Harry. It will be as if he never existed."

Molly lowered her face into her hands and began to weep bitter tears. Arthur Weasley could feel the walls closing in around his heart. Desperately he clung to his faith,.. his faith in their seventh son, Harry.

" Molly dear, .. you don't,.. we can't know for certain? Harry may yet find a way to control the fire,.. he might still survive?"

Molly flew out of her chair and stalked angrily toward her husband, who cringed back warily seeing the fire return to her fierce brown eyes. " How Arthur? How will he survive? Merlin himself could not control the _fire. _He was the greatest, most powerful wizard of all time, a full grown man at the height of his power when even **he** succumbed to the heavy toll exacted from calling upon the power of _phoenix fire_. Harry is still growing. He's just a boy really." She choked back a sob as she finished her thought. " A wonderfully brave,... sweet,.. loving.. boy.." her words died along with the anger of her remorse as she fell sobbing into her husband's waiting arms.

**Greystone Manor **

Through his terrible hatred, Voldemort had regained some of his arguably tenuous grasp on sanity. He turned his trembling wand from the direction of his now out of sight, Death Eaters, and leveled it on his most hated of all could feel a gnawing ache within the pit of his being as he struggled to call up the _fire_ one last time. Faint echoes of phoenix song still whispered thru the cavernous chamber. Grimly he stalked forward, at peace with the knowledge that his destiny was at hand and one way or another, he would at last be free,.. as would the rest of the wizarding world. Free to live without the never ending fear that tomorrow would bring with it the painful loss of all those you held dear. No more would he have to suffer the pain and guilt of those who had fallen trying to protect him, nor would he have to fear for those who still remained. It was time to unburden himself of his pain and grief.

" It all ends now , Tom. Fitting somehow, what with it being Christmas and all. It truly will be a day of peace and good fellowship, not that either of us will live to see it."

Voldemort's lips curled in an evil sneer as he watched Harry's approach from across the chamber. " Ah, Yes.. Christmas, I'd almost forgotten in all the excitement. Well,..hmm.. I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to get a present for you, but , perhaps I can still provide a gift for you… and myself in the process?"

Harry continued to move slowly forward with deliberate ease. He cocked his head and sniggered as he came. " I could always use a tie, though I don't imagine you have one in Gryffindor colors?"

Voldemort laughed hollowly, " No, I must admit, I do not. As a gift I was thinking more along the lines of a quick death for you, and for me the pleasure of having you permanently out of the way, once and for all!"

Harry paused thoughtfully and goaded," Odd that, I had thought to offer you the very same gift. Since all the stores are closed and I can't take it back, how about I give you something else I know you've always wanted... would you like to hear the prophecy?"

Voldemort's eyes bulged, his jaw worked soundlessly in consternation. Harry smiled knowingly, " I'll take that as a yes."

Harry recited Trelwaney's prophecy word for word finishing with, " for neither can live ,whilst the other survives..." Harry gave him a moment to let the meaning of the prophecy sink in,. He used the moment it provided to call up the _fire, _this one last time .

Voldemort's eyes went wide in sudden understanding... phoenix song filled the air as he brandished his wand, and turned it on.. **himself **?

Harry was just about to release a blast of _phoenix fire, _anticipating that Voldemort was preparing to curse him with his standard _Adavra Kedavra _spell_, _but held back in blatant shock when Voldemort instead turned his wand on himself.

_Mad. Totally barking, _Harry thought to himself.

"Mad am I, Potter? Careful boy, in that moment you let your guard down, I could read your thoughts with no more effort than is required to walk thru an empty room. No, Potter,.. I've no intention of killing myself. I am merely preparing myself for what is to come; our final battle, and your death. _**Serpentsotum Necro Totalus!" **_

Anight black cloud erupted from Voldemort's wand and sent inky tendrils of smoke spiraling around Voldemort's body. The mage twisted and screamed, his wand dropped from hands that no longer existed as his arms and legs melded in to one mass of wreathing scaly flesh. Voldemort, or the thing he was becoming, twisted to and fro as unearthly screams of agony erupted from the gapping maw that served as the once handsome wizard's, mouth. Cruel fangs erupted from the rapidly forming mouth and a forked tongue flicked out from between it's glistening fangs.

Harry unconsciously took a step back, shuddering in utter revulsion as Voldemort's hideous form spilled out across the chamber floor. The dais was already to small to contain it's rapidly expanding bulk of coiled death.

_A_ _Basalisk!, _Harry though desperately, his previous confidence waning in light of this unexpected and deadly development. His thought jumbled desperately _No wand. No sword of Griffindor to fight with, and certainly no Fawkes, (Dumbledore's pet phoenix), _to save him this time. At least he had not been alone when he faced a basalisk the first time in the Chamber of Secrets. Though unconscious thru the whole ordeal , at least Ginny had been there . Someone for him to fight for,.. die for even. Harry felt a surge , a stirring of power within the core of his being, when his thoughts had drifted to Ginny.

"Idiot" he admonished himself as he slapped his forehead in sudden understanding. He wasn't just calling the **phoenix fire, **he was the phoenix, the true **phoenix** of legend , and the **fire** was his to command. Harry came to this realization just as Voldemort's transformation was completing itself. Phoenix song chimed thru the air and golden light filled the subterranean chamber as a hideously enormous oily black snake withed up from the cold flagstone floor and turned baleful, sulfuric eyes on ... a gigantic bird of flame with molten emerald eyes!

Creatures of legend, mortal enemies that they were ,threw themselves at one another with hateful abandon. The walls of the mansion shuddered in a futile attempt to contain the titanic battle that was forming at it's center. The floor of the chamber crumbled and gave way, but still the two combatant's battled, twisting and falling through the caverns that riddled the foundation beneath Greystone Manor. Fangs slashed thru fiery flesh and talons raked on scaly hide ,as the phoenix and snake tumbled, falling through the air ,locked in a death role that would see them both destroyed on impact with the jagged rocks that lined the cavern's floor so rapidly approaching beneath them. With a Herculean effort ,the phoenix broke free from the basilisk's crushing coils and soared up toward the mansion above just as the gargantuan snake impacted the rocks below with horrific- **thud! **

The strain was incredible as he struggled to propel his battered form upwards. Harry could feel the last remnant's of his strength fading as he fought to hold onto the _fire_ just long enough to reach the crumbling mansion above and the hoped for safety of open air beyond. Harry had just reached the shattered remnants of the chamber, where the final battle had begun only moments before when a deafening rumble heralded the mansion's collapse upon him. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of tons of mortar and rock came smashing down overhead as the last of Harry's new found power ebbed away...


	7. Chapter 7: Christmas is a Time of Peace?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of this story or characters**

**Chapter Seven: Christmas is a Time of Peace?**

"Ginnykins?" Fred's voice called out teasingly, though in little more than a whisper. "Ginny luv, what are you still doing abed, on New Year's Day, yet? What's wrong with this picture my esteemed brother?" George mused to his cheekily grinning sibling.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with it you handsome devil of a Weasley" came Fred's too eager retort.

"No, no- you're the handsome one."

"No you are"

"You are"

"We both are" They chorused as one. "Handsome ugh, maybe? World Class Gits- definitely!" came their sister's muffled reply from beneath her bed covers.

"Ah, now that's the sweet voice of our little Ginny drop. That same melodious voice we all know and love." Fred chided, further attempting to lighten the mood. The truth be told , for once his heart wasn't in it, neither was his twin's , judging by the dark look that was ghosting across George's face.

George cleared his throat nervously and continued carefully, "Ginny...? Please luv, we have some news that we need to share with…"

Her bedcovers flew into the air as she bolted upright excitedly. "Is it Harry? Did they find.…?" her words trailed off on seeing her twin brother's downcast eyes and the tension in their stance as they shifted uncomfortably. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she waited for them to put words to the growing sense of dread she'd felt since waking to a worse nightmare than the one she had been dreaming of at the hands of the Death Eaters. She waited for them to continue, till finally, she couldn't take it any longer.

"Tell me?" she growled, losing her patience.

_How could they tell her that Harry had been officially declared dead?_

The twins shared a brief look and nodded to one another in that strange way they had of reading each other's thoughts, and then George sat down next to her and made to take her hand. Impatiently, she brushed his hand aside, sliding back from him until her back was wedged uncomfortably against the bed's headboard. She would take no comfort from him. Her own mother had failed to even get a response from Ginny since the 'fall out' Christmas Day, hence she had sent the twins to try and reach her where all others had failed since this nightmare had begun on Christmas morning. The first days Ginny had been inconsolable, desolate. Her grief had been so terrible that Madam Pomfrey had kept her heavily sedated at times, fearing what Ginny might do in her despair.

Christmas had been anything but the peaceful day of love and happiness that their parents had well intentionally, but foolishly thought to make it. It had started as a day of revelation, when their father had gathered the family and those members of the Order present and told them what little there was known of the legend that was… _Phoenix Fire, _and what it meant for Harry if he had indeed found it within himself to call forth this most wondrous and terrible of magical powers.

Their father's expression had been one of childlike awe, as he recounted that only those of the purest hearts and greatest love were said to be able to call upon the _fire_ in times of desperate need. Then Arthur Weasley turned ashen as he told them how the _fire_ fed upon a wizard's source of magic- his soul, and finally upon his very body till naught but ash was left. It would be as if that person had never existed, for there would be no soul left behind to continue the next great adventure that came after death.

Murmurs of denial mingling with sobs of grief at his revelations, spread thru the gathered throng.

Within the next hours, despair had turned to a glimmer of hope when Kingsley Shacklebolt had arrived to inform the Weasleys that three Death Eaters had turned themselves in to face justice at the request of one Harry Potter. Harry had been last reported to be engaged in personal combat with '_H_e_ who must not be named', _at Greystone Manor, located on the eastern coast near Wales. A contingent of aurors and hit-wizards were already in route to that location.

Hope had turned to fear and sorrow when the aurors reported having found Greystone Manor in a crumbling ruin. They were doubtful that any survivors would be found buried beneath the tons of rubble. Given the circumstances, what with the vast wreckage and the time of year, excavation of the site would be officially suspended till after the holidays. Voldemort was presumed dead and Harry Potter was officially listed as missing, though sadly, he is presumed dead, as well.

Sorrow had turned to mind numbing, all consuming grief, when her mother had pulled herself together long enough to tell Ginny the news. George shuddered involuntarily as he remembered Ginny's wails of despair when she heard that Harry was presumed dead, buried beneath tons of rubble, in a last pitched battle against Voldemort. The Weasley men had remained downstairs pacing the foyer nervously, none having the courage to witness their youngest member's heart wrenching torment first hand, though Ginny's mournful cries of shock and despair, mingled with her mother's muffled reassurances, wafted down from above. Bill had remained with Fleur in their bedroom- she had been quite attached to Harry, and had not taken the news of his likely demise well. Charlie was chatting quietly with a badly shaken Percy, and even the usually exuberant twins had sought comfort within their father's embrace upon hearing their sister's mournful cries.

Off in the nearby study, Hermionee was fairing little better than Ginny. Her face was buried in Ron's already dampened robes, as another wave of fresh sobs had her in its grip. Ron was holding her fiercely in his arms, rocking and cooing gently to her as his hand stroked thru her thick brown locks, tears of his own trailing down his cheeks. Their tender moment of shared grief was about to take an unexpected turn into utter chaos when Ginny's wails abruptly fell silent and the sound of squabbling ensued.

Grief had turned to **rage** when Mrs. Weasley had tearfully informed Ginny that Harry's body would not be recovered till after the holidays when excavation of the Greystone site was slotted to begin. The scene of less than thirty six hours ago, when Harry had forced an escape from Grimauld Place, was repeating itself in the form of a desperately furious, Ginny Weasley.

The upstairs door slammed with a loud bang and footsteps grew hurriedly louder as someone was rushing toward the stair. In the distance another door opened and closed, followed by an angry pleading voice.

"Ginny? Ginevra Weasley, you come back this instant!" Molly called after.

Arthur Weasley and his sons started at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice, coupled with Ginny's sudden appearance at the top of the stair. Her beautiful red hair was in tangled disarray, a scowl etched her delicate features and her eyes,… her deep brown eyes wore a shallow, vacant gleam of madness!

"Arthur!" his wife called needlessly to alert him.

Mr. Weasley moved forward with his arms open, ready to embrace his daughter as she pounded down the stairs toward him; warily he eyed the presence of Harry's wand still grasped tightly in her small hands.

"Ginny, luv..?" His voice brought her to a brief halt on the second from last stair. She responded to her name only, for her eyes held no recognition of her father's image. Her father took a faltering step forward, only to have Ginny duck under his outstretched arms and lunge headlong into a wall of her own brothers, who had moved into position behind their father. She kicked, clawed and even bit at them as they attempted to subdue her safely. Strong arms twinned around her arms, pinning them to her sides as she was bodily lifted from the floor and held aloft until her thrashing and kicking finally subsided and she was at last in some semblance of control over her raging emotions.

"Geroff me, Charlie! Bloody buggering hell- put me down!" Ginny wrenched her arm free, just enough to allow her to twist Harry's wand behind her, trying to train it on one of her captors. "Put me down or I'll..."

Rough hands ripped the wand from her grasp and she yelped in sudden pain as Ron's voice roared, "Oiy, just what in the bloody hell are you playing at? Have you lost your mind!" Ron's face was so red it looked purplish in hue.

She cringed back, almost burrowing into Charlie, seeking her once captor's shelter. Hermione's tear stained face appeared at Ron's shoulder. Her long delicate fingers reached out and he allowed her to pull him back from his current position of looming angrily over his frightened sister. Hermione's eyes flicked over Ginny's shoulder meaningfully, and Ginny could feel herself slowly lowered to the floor. Charlie still maintained his vice like grip on his sister, despite Hermione's reassurances. Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly at him, but Charlie merely shrugged his shoulders indifferently, pulling Ginny temporarily off the floor, as he did so. Ron was still muttering under his breath, but his color had returned to its normal pink and Harry's wand was now safely tucked away in his back pocket. Hermione's eyes locked into Ginny's haunted desperate ones, but unlike before when Ginny had been under the stair, she could see glimmers of her friend's conscious mind staring back at her.

Hermione softly cleared her throat, taking a moment as she collected her thoughts and began. "I'm so sorry Ginny, we all are. Harry was my first true friend. He was mine and Ron's best friend, our brother. He was a son to your parents and a brother to your family, but... it was you he loved above all others, truly loved."

Ginny whimpered softly and seemed to shrink, burrowing deeper into Charlie's arms. She could hear her mother sobbing quietly and her father's soft voice cooing words of comfort to her mum. Ron had moved beside Hermione and was clutching desperately at her hand, twinning his trembling fingers with her own.

Both of them feared having to face this moment. The twins were in the background on Hermione's other side. Their eyes were glued to the floor and they shifted nervously. Every so often one or the other would swipe a tear away from their respective eye. But, it was Hermione's voice that reached Ginny's through her walls of anger and sorrow. Hermione's soft brown eyes that held her captive as her words said aloud the things that Ginny had up till know only heard in the echoes of her own breaking heart.

"It was you Ginny. You, that Harry did it all for. Not for the world, not for his friends and family, but you! He loved you Ginny, fiercely, passionately, and I can truly say with all his heart. Please Ginny, let me show you just how much you meant to Harry?" Hermione grasped Ginny's hands in her own and nodded to Charlie, who released his sister with a gentle squeeze of reassurance and a soft whisper of, "It'll be alright"

Ginny's hands trembled and she looked uncertainly in Hermione's eyes, but found only love and gentle reassurance staring back at her. Hermione guided her toward the sitting room and the rest of the family followed slowly behind, as Hermione beckoned them to follow with her eyes. An enormous, fat Christmas tree adorned with fairy lights and ribbons filled nearly half of the room surrounded by a hoard of brightly wrapped gifts in all sizes and shapes. No one had felt much like celebrating just yet. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth and holly and mistletoe were hung conspicuously about the room.

Normally, Ginny would be reveling in the Christmas spirit, anxiously waiting to tear into the waiting gifts, but now she woodenly followed Hermione to the twinkling tree. Hermione released one of Ginny's hands as she fished out a small box wrapped in emerald green paper, adorned with a bright red ribbon. She could feel Ginny's hand tense as if ready to bolt when her friend saw the green wrapped gift, which she knew reminded Ginny of the color of Harry's eyes. She remembered pointing the same thing out to Harry only last week when she watched him carefully wrap this same package after he had confided it's part of the secret of its contents to her and what it was meant to do. She had voiced her concerns at the time, but now as she looked lovingly at Ron waiting nervously behind his sister with the rest of his family, she knew that Harry had been right in what she assumed that he _proposed_ to do.

"This is for you, Ginny. This is Harry's present for you. He made me promise that if anything should happen... that if he couldn't… that his gift would find its way to you." Ginny shrank back from the gift that her friend held out to her, but, Hermione's hand continued to grasp her own.

Ron was suddenly at his sister's shoulders, grasping them firmly. "Please, Ginny, Please open the present. I have a message from Harry that goes with the gift."

Hermione cocked her head quizzically to the side at hearing this, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders and smiled helplessly in return. Obviously, Harry had been taking no chances in assuring that his gift would find its way to Ginny, no doubt having worried that one of his friends may not have made it through the final conflict.

Trembling fingers untied the bow and gently pulled away the green wrapping, revealing a small hand carved, cherry wood box. A pair of interwoven hearts adorned the lid and the box had a lustrous, burnished red glow. The color of the box…

"The color reminded Harry of your hair." Ron spoke softly, without any hint of embarrassment, as she would have expected of him, revealing such an intimate thought about his own sister, whom he protected fiercely.

Then Ron added further, "Harry carved the hearts himself. It took him days to do it all by hand. No magic was used in the carving itself, he wanted it perfect."

Ginny's trembling fingers gently traced the outline of the wooden hearts, there were strange little depressions in the surface that she had at first mistaken for nicks and mars in the carving , on closer inspection they were really, " Runes." Hermione volunteered. Ginny's mouth gaped open in wonder. The carvings were so tiny and intricate that the eye could barely discern them. If she hadn't have ran her fingers over the boundaries of the linked hearts, she would have never noticed the impressions in the surface of the wood. It must have taken him days, weeks even, to do this by hand without the aid of magic. Ginny's voice was no more than a whisper, her curiosity out weighing her grief, as she asked her friend tentatively, "C-Can you r-read them?"

Hermione blushed deeply in embarrassment before answering, "Actually, I can't. It's a form of rune that I've never encountered before in my studies. I couldn't even begin to guess at its meaning, let alone what magic that is instilled within those ancient symbols. I'm sorry, Ginny,.. I was sort of hoping that you might have a clue as to their meaning." Ron cleared his throat nervously and visibly stiffened as all eyes in the room were drawn to him. "I-I can tell you what they say, H-Harry taught me."

Hermione's face went blank on hearing this revelation. Her eyes took on that misty, faraway look she got when she was trying to puzzle something out in her mind.

"Harry taught you the translation of the runes?"

Ron nodded his confirmation.

"But, why would he do that and not tell me?" It wasn't really so much of a question she was asking but just her way of trying to work things through. Suddenly her eyes narrowed shrewdly,.she was on to something. Ron knew by her expression that she wasn't too keen on the answer that she was rapidly arriving at. Hermione's voice took on a sharp edge.

"Did he tell you what the box contained?" Ron shook his head, unable to find his voice under her withering glare.

She continued thinking aloud. "He told you the secret of the runes,. but he told me what to tell Ginny once the box was open, but not how to open it, nor what it contained? Why would he do that? Why not tell us both parts in case one of us didn't survive the final battle, unless…?"

Ron's ears went pink in anger as he began to follow her tract of thought and arrived at the same conclusion. "Unless he already knew that we would both survive?"

Ginny's eyes, and those of the rest of her family, shifted back and forth between the two of them as if they were watching some muggle tennis match!

Hermione's face was a mixture of sadness and cold fury. She knew the answer before she spoke.

"Harry couldn't have known for certain that we'd survive, that any of us would survive, unless... unless he ..?" her voice caught as she realized she had been betrayed by the last person on earth that she would have ever believed would go back on his word.

Ron's face was so flushed he was purple in hue as he vented his rage at their absent friend's expense. "That lying bastard!" he spat venomously.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" His mother's voice admonished. "I won't tolerate that sort of language, and on Christmas yet!"

"No mum", he spat. "Harry lied to us. He promised Hermione and me that we would see this thing thru- together! He swore an oath with us that we would face the final battle together, just like it's always been right from the beginning, the three of us **together**- no matter what! Harry and that bloody nobility complex of his, he's been planning to keep us out of it all along. Why else would he only tell each of us a separate part of the equation in solving the mystery of opening that thing? He must have been working on that bloody box for almost what,… a year now?" he directed his question to Hermione who only managed to nod her head sadly in answer .

Ron gasped in frustration, "Damn you Harry, you traitorous bastard."

"Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out. She would have continued her lecture but was interrupted by two throats clearing in perfect unison

"Ahem" The twins stepped forward.

George and Fred had serious expressions on their face, not unheard of, but a rarity, never the less. George wrapped a protective arm around his sister and whispered into her ear. She nodded her head and let him lead her to a seat by her mother, where she sat with downcast eyes, clutching the mysterious wooden box protectively to her breast. Hermione was sniffling softly, her arms clutched tightly around her waist, while Ron continued to pace and mutter irritably under his breath. Each of them despairing over the betrayal they felt from their lost friend.

George went to sooth Hermione, who shifted nervously at his approach. Fred stood in Ron's path, forcing him to stop and look expectantly at his elder brother. Fred scowled at his younger brother and nodded his head in Hermione's direction, forcing Ron to realize that he was being an unfeeling git by ignoring his girlfriend's obvious distress. Ron's face went scarlet as he shuffled over to Hermione and mumbled, "Sorry" as he pulled her into his comforting embrace.

The twins shared an uneasy look and then each pulled a letter from their prospective robes. George reached out and gently cupped Hermione's chin in his palm, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I'm so very sorry; you'll never know how sorry we are about Harry." Fred put in softly, " Don't get us wrong, we're not sorry he left you out of it. We'll never be sorry about that, not ever. We're sorry about Harry. He was our friend too, our family."

A soft sob could be heard from Mrs. Weasley and Bill's voice chimed in, "Too right there, mate. He was a Weasley in all but name."

"And hair color." Charlie's voice added with a strained chuckle.

A moment lapsed and George continued, "I know your both angry at Harry for keeping you out of it. I understand, I do, but..?"

"He loved you." Fred finished for his twin and added, "He loved you and wanted to keep you safe. You made him promise something that to Harry was unthinkable. You actually expected him to allow you both to put yourselves in harm's way? Ron, I can see you being that naive, but really Hermione, when did you become such a world class prat?"

Hermione's whimpering ceased and her eyes narrowed. "Prat am I? What would you have me do, crawl down some hole and leave my friend, my brother, alone to face such terrible danger?"

Ron took up her side and added, "We started this together and we should have finished it together. If we had been there, he could still be alive! We could…"

"You could all be dead!" His father finished solemnly from the gallery. The rest of the family sat in stunned silence. Rarely, if ever did Mr. Weasley speak up in times of emotional turmoil. His was the stoic strength of support that held the family together during such times. Almost never did he directly address his family on such occasions, but this time he had something to say, and they we're going to listen.

Mr. Weasley stepped forward and let his gaze sweep over the room before settling on Ron and Hermione. His jaw was set, his eyes firm with resolve. Ron tried to hold his gaze, but it was a futile effort before he blushed and lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I'm sorry," his father began. "but, I must agree with Fred, in this matter. Just where have you two been keeping yourselves these past eight years, that you have so little grasp of your best friend's character ?"

Ron and Hermione visibly flinched at his condemnation. He continued and his voice rose in volume with his words.

"Were you not here when he fought his way thru us, his own family, to go to Ginny's rescue? I cannot vouch for his reasoning, only his motives; that being to protect us and save Ginny despite his desperation, not to mention his power. My God, the power! You felt it- he could have burned us to ash in a heartbeat, yet for all that he was amazingly restrained, gentle even. He subdued us without the slightest injury. I saw the look in his eye when he stunned you Hermione, how it pained him."

Mr. Weasley's hand swept over his gathered sons for effect, "And you boys, hitting , kicking, trying to drag him down by sheer weight of numbers. You did everything possible to try and subdue Harry without the use of your magic, and he... he never lifted a hand against any of you , never struck back at you. He was determined to save Ginny and you were all trying to save him from himself. I was proud, so very proud of you all, of him too." His voice caught for a moment as he fought back a sob.

"Only your mother stopped him, albeit momentarily. All she had done was to ask and he obeyed. Of all of you here, who can say they would've done the same and heeded your mother's wishes, given the dire circumstances?"

Molly's sobbing intensified; her face was buried in Bill's shouldering embrace. Mr. Weasley took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief from his pocket, trying to disguise the fact that he was really wiping away a few stray tears in the process. He replaced his glasses and again swept his gaze over his family and finished.

"Now, enough of this senseless arguing, Harry was our family. What he did, he did for love. He could do no less. His was forever a kind and noble heart. I will hear no more said against him- **ever!**"His last statement shook everyone present, as was his intention. He nodded to the twins and said softly, "Boys, please continue..." He went and stood behind his wife and daughter, sheltering them with his gentle presence.

George stepped forward and produced a pale yellow envelope which he held out to Hermione, her name was written on the front in what she recognized as Harry's scrawl. George nodded to her, encouraging that she open the letter, before he too returned to his previous seat next to his brother.

Hermione's trembling fingers pulled a single sheet of tan parchment from the envelope and in a halting whispered voice she read her friend's words aloud:

_Hermione; My friend, my sister. _

_If you are reading this now, then I am gone and you are no doubt angry and hurt with me for my having betrayed your trust. I couldn't do it Hermione, I couldn't! I've never had any family, not until you and Ron came along. You both have meant everything to me. We've all risked so much, saved each other's lives so many times... how could I possibly take the chance yet again of putting you in harm's way? I know you will find it in your heart to forgive me one day- that's your nature. I'm not sure that Ron will ever be able to forgive me as well, but that's okay with me. As long as he has you by his side, than I'm content. You two were meant for each other, you're soul mates. I am grateful to realize that in some small way I share some of the responsibility for you having found each other. It has been my privilege to see your love blossom and grow into the thing of absolute beauty it has become. I ask you one small favor, it's a simple thing really as you have so much of it to give; love Ron- always._

_With all my love and gratitude, Harry P.S.- Remember..._

The script was already stained with many tears whose flow suddenly ceased as she puzzled over the meaning of his post script. She gasped in surprise when a golden mist gathered from the letters on the page and formed into a three dimensional scene, one that she would always remember.

"Oh, Harry." she sighed. "How could I ever possibly forget."

The scene playing before her was from their first year at Hogwarts. Harry was holding her, comforting her, in the girls lavatory after he and Ron had dispatched the troll that had been threatening her. It was the moment that she, Ron and Harry, had all become inseparable friends.

With measured calm, Hermione refolded the letter and returned it to its envelope. She lovingly ran her hand over her name on the front of the envelope, imagining the connection to her friend and whisper so softly that no one, save Ron, could have heard her words, "Goodbye, my brother. I'll never forget."

After a few moments of silence, punctuated by sniffles from around the sitting room, Fred stood up and moved toward his younger brother. He pulled a maroon colored envelope from his robes and presented the envelope to Ron , who could see his name spelled in gold lettering on the front of the envelope; _Gryffindor colors_. Ron reached tentatively for the proffered letter, but his hand halted mere inches from taking it. A variety of emotions swirled through his mind, anger, pain, love and fear. Hermione's hand drifted into his own and he felt a surge of courage replace his previous dread. He took the envelope and nodded gratefully to his brother. Fred gave his shoulder a squeeze and nodded reassuringly before retaking his seat with the rest of the family, who waited expectantly.

Unlike Hermione, Ron wasted no time and tore open his envelope and quickly scanned the contents of his letter. After only a few brief moments, he faltered and drew a trembling hand over his eyes while passing his letter off to Hermione, before turning away from the other eyes in the room. The dam that served to hold Ron's closely guarded emotions in check had finally ruptured. His back shook violently as racking sobs of grief washed out of him. Hermione ached to take him in her arms, but Fred had moved past her already and gathered his younger brother in a comforting embrace. She didn't know what startled her more; Ron's breakdown or that the twins, for all their antics, were actually capable of such compassion and tenderness. Many sounds of gentle weeping filled the sitting room.

The scene seemed at such odds with the brightly lit Christmas tree and the presents all around, but Christmas had passed and a New Year was approaching. It was time for them to let go and move forward. Ron's sobs had subsided and Hermionee chanced a look in his direction. Fred still held him close and with a strained expression, Fred met Hermione's eyes and croaked out, "Read it. He needs to hear it. We all do."

Hermione steeled herself , afraid at what she might find within the letter that could have so easily torn thru Ron's stout defenses. She unfolded the parchment. _Dear Ron, my friend and brother: _

_If you're reading this now, then I'm gone. Your angry with me...I know, but, it had to be this way. I pray in time that you will forgive me for having broken my promise and left you out of it. If you can't find it in your heart to forgive me, I understand, but I need you to know that… __**I'll never be sorry!**__ Every day I thank the creator that you came into my coach on the Hogwart's Express. You made me your friend and took me into your family, the two things that I've wanted more than anything in this world, for as long as I could remember. It was all I ever dreamed about when locked away in my cupboard under the stair; friends and family. Thank you for your courage, loyalty and honesty, without them, none of us would have survived. Look after Hermione, (though it's more than likely that she'll be looking after you), and don't be afraid to love her. You have so much love to give and she deserves all of it. Lastly, encourage Ginny to find someone to love, someone who'll love her like she deserves- with all their heart. Please do this for me, for her. She deserves it. Help spare her the loneliness that she has in turn, albeit briefly, saved me from. Love always, Harry P.S… Remember... _

As before, a golden mist rose from the words on the parchment and coalesced into a scene from their past. Hermione gasped when she recognized the memory that Harry had chosen to remember.

"Ron?" She began, drawing his attention.. Ron's back went straight, but he made no attempt to turn and see the image that Harry had left for him in parting.

Fred gently touched his hands to Ron's shoulders and nodded encouragement to his brother. Ron seemed to slump down in resignation before he turned and saw:

It was the scene from the Shrieking Shack in their third year. They had mistakenly thought that Sirius intended to kill Harry. Ron, who had broken his leg and was in terrible pain, had shouldered his way past Harry, attempting to shield his friend with his own body, whilst Harry in turn, was trying to protect Ron and Hermione from harm.

Ron's face was pale, his jaw worked silently as he watched the scene replay itself over. He began to tremble violently before falling to his knees. His hands went to his face in a feeble attempt to cover his tears as he blurted, "Even at the end... facing that madman alone ... and all he can think of is keeping us, safe."


	8. Chapter 8:Survivors

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters**

**Chapter Eight: Survivors **

The dark was all consuming, crushing,... never ending. How long he'd lain unconscious he couldn't guess. How much longer had he stumbled blindly in the darkness was at least days, if not weeks. His legs were torn and bruised from scraping against the unseen boulders and jagged cavern walls of this dank tomb of endless night. God, how he wished he had his glasses, not that they would be of any use in this pitch blackness. Wand-less, Harry dared not try to apparate as he was unaware of his location and would splinch himself at the least, if not end up embedded in a cavern wall, where he would surely die a torturous death if he wasn't dead already from the failed attempt. He had tried to call the _fire, _but was unable to draw so much asa single spark. He couldn't be sure without a wand to test it on, but somewhere in the pit of his stomach he was afraid he had used up all of his magic in its entirety. There was nothing left for him to call upon. His magical core was empty.

Thoughts of Ginny had been the only thing holding him together this long and he was ashamed to admit to himself that it might not be enough. His stomach growled for what seemed the hundredth time. It must have been days since he'd eaten last and that had been some strange form of luminescent lichenthat he had barely kept down, retching violently between bites. He had carried as much of it as he could; using its feeble glow to light his way. Eventually, hunger had won out and he had been forced to consume the last of his precious light source, lest he starve before ever again seeing the light of day. He wasn't completely lost anymore; he'd been following the same wall by sense of touch for what must be days now, of course, for all he knew it was just a giant circular cavern and he was stumbling blindly in circles. His throat burned with thirst. It had been some time since he'd last come upon even the slightest rivulet of moisture that he could lap gratefully from the cavern wall.

At last, the stony floor had felt as if it were gently rising beneath his tread. Harry could hear thunder in the distance. He first believed a storm was raging in the world outside, later realizing he was following the sound of the ocean surf. Though heartened by the growing sound of distant freedom, the air remained dank and musty, with no sign of freshness that would indicate an opening to the outside.

Once his initial disorientation from waking in total darkness had worn off , he had been elated to find he had survived the final battle against Voldemort. That was until the shock wore off and the pain set in; a terrible burning pain that ate at his left flank. His side was torn, but strangely no wetness that would indicate bleeding was felt beneath his probing fingers as he gingerly investigated his wound. There was a gaping hole in his left side that had gone nearly all the way thru. It burned horrifically at his touch and he was forced to abandon any further efforts to explore his injury, lest he pass out from the pain. He could only assume that he had torn himself open when he had fallen down into the cavern, and that the lack of blood meant his side was at least partially healed. The burning sensation no doubt indicated an infection had set it.

_Great_, if he didn't die of starvation or exhaustion first, than a simple infection would finish the job._ "_Some hero." he muttered to himself as he trudged tiredly onward.

**February 1st**

The funeral for Harry Potter had been an official affair, one that the ministry had hoped to use to bolster its flagging support. The only thing positive that had come from it was to see Cornelius Fudge sacked and the installment of Amelia Bones as the new Minister of Magic.

The first order of business was for the new minister to appoint Arthur Weasley as junior minister, second only to herself, a much deserved and long overdue promotion by all accounts. Secondly; the ministry had begun a recruitment campaign for their auror program. The auror's numbers had been decimated during the war, as well as the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Division, another appointment that was met with great approval by the public sector. Lastly; but most importantly to those that knew him well, a second, private funeral had been held to lay Harry Potter to rest.

No body had been recovered from the ruins of Greystone Manor, just a pair of well known round lens, broken eye glasses had been found within a still smoldering pile of ashes. The ashes were scattered over a cavernous floor in the rough outline of a bird of prey, some hundreds of feet beneath the ruined estate. Unknown to the public at large, ashy residue in the shape of a gigantic snake, had been found as well, within the confines of that stony tomb.

Professor Minerva McGonagal had delivered the eulogy at Harry's funeral, at least she had attempted to. In a rare display of emotion, the professor had broken down and been unable to complete her speech. Surprisingly she had been rescued by Professor Snape ,whom had completed the address having stunned guests by his eloquent praise for his former student's courage and nobility. It was his last official act before retiring to a life of private research in the field of his beloved potions.

All of Harry's close friends from school had attended: Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Cho Chang, to name a few. His blood relatives, the Dursley's, had not even shown up, much to the relief of all those present. The Weasley's, Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin had gratefully served in their stead, which was how Harry had wanted things as indicated in his will. Ginny Weasley had been the only member conspicuously missing from the Weasley Family in 's name had been added to his parent'_s _tombstone in the small family plot of St. Timothy's in Godric's Hollow. His marker simply read:

**_Harry James Potter Beloved son,_**

**_ brother,_****_and friend. _**

**_His love and courage has saved us all_**

**LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF HARRY JAMES POTTER:**

Harry's will had been presented at Grimauld Place the following day. Amelia Bones had taken it upon herself to present Harry's last wishes to the gathered heirs of his estate; sadly this included the Dursley family. Thankfully, they were not present as being muggles, were unable to locate a magical establishment such as Grimauld Place, this was coupled with the fact of Vernon Dursley's unwillingness to associate with "Freaks"_._ The Weasley's were present, again, minus their youngest member, Ginny Weasley. Remus Lupin, accompanied by his fiancéNymphadora Tonks , Hermione Granger and surprisingly, Fleur Delacour.

Remus Lupin held his arm around Tonks, relishing his fiancé's tender support. A slight chuckle escaped his throat when he looked at this lovely brunette. He had been shocked at first to see her wearing her natural hair color instead of sporting vibrant pink or electric blue tresses, as she usually did. Remus couldn't fathom why he was included in Harry's will. Harry had already given him gifts beyond treasure; his friendship and a curse-free existence. Three full moons had passed since the night Harry had used the _fire_ , and Remus had yet to suffer the transformation into werewolf form. Harry's healing touch on Christmas Eve had been a gift without measure, in taking away the curse that had plagued Remus nearly all of his life. His feelings for Harry were beyond love, beyond gratitude. His grateful musings were interrupted as the proceedings began.

"Attention everyone, attention! Arthur, is everyone present?" Minister Bones inquired.

"Everyone except Harry's Aunt and Uncle, but I'm given to understand that they are ... ah, unable to attend." Mr. Weasley's answer was met by a derisive snort from the twins.

From, George. "Unable? Unwilling more like."

Fred adding, "Unwanted, more accurate!"

"Boys..!" A warning hiss from their mother settled the matter.

Minister Bones did her best to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up in amusement at the twin Weasley's outburst, and continued.

"Yes, well... shall we push on then? Mr. Potter was quite specific in his will, quite surprising really, considering one so young and with all the burdens he already carried, to have the foresight to make provisions for his survivors. I myself had not the pleasure of meeting Mr. Potter, something I have come to profoundly regret after having been privileged to share in some of your experiences and recollections of young Harry. I could just call off your individual names and relate to you Mr. Potter's wishes, which is customary, however, given the wording of this document, I feel it is important for each of those concerned to hear Mr. Potter's last thoughts for all those gathered here. Is this acceptable to everyone?"

She gazed around the drawing room and noted murmurs and nods of approval from those present "Excellent. Let us begin:

To Vernon and Petunia Dursley: I leave the sum of Ten Thousand British Pounds. This is not an inheritance, but merely payment of services rendered for room and board. You have made it quite clear to me over the years that I have been unwanted in your home, a needless burden and expense. Therefore, I wish to square accounts between us and remit to you this sum to offset the expenses my presence incurred within your home. I wish things could have been different between us, but at least know that I am grateful for your effort."

Any further reading by the minister was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's angry outburst.

"Effort! Effort!... No, I won't shush Arthur." Mrs. Weasley growled as she jumped from her seat, shooing away her husband's restraining hands and raging to no one in particular.

"They abused and neglected that dear boy from the day he arrived in their '_tender_ _care'_."

She continued with increasing venom. "It's a wonder,... no, an absolute **miracle**, that he turned out to be the kind and loving young man that he grew into. If those wretched muggles were only here, I'd give them better than remittance for room and board, I'd give them a fine set of hexes for payment in full for all they did to that dear... sweet… boy…" Molly Weasley had run out of steam and collapsed into her husband's waiting arms.

The murmurs of approval from around the room went unheard, drowned out by her sobs.

Minister Bones paused to let the gathering resettle itself before continuing. If she was at all shocked by this outburst her face betrayed none of it. She cleared her throat to gain everyone's attention.

"To Remus Lupin: I leave the house at Number 12 Grimauld Place and all the furnishings within, including Mrs. Black's portrait, sorry about that."

Mrs. Bones paused, arching a questioning eyebrow, while the gathering chuckled knowingly.

She continued. "I also leave the sum of One Hundred Thousand Galleons, to aid you in what I'm sure will be a financial burden in having to remove said portrait. You and Sirius have been both mine and my parent's most steadfast and loyal friends. Without your guidance, I most surely would not have survived my third year at Hogwarts or the proceeding years thereafter. Merlin bless you, Remus. I'll say 'Hi' to the Marauders for you."

Remus's face was as white as chalk, but for the glistening tears that tracked down his pale cheeks. He sat woodenly in his chair, completely dumbstruck by Harry's unexpected generosity. His tension was finally alleviated not by Tonk's murmurs of reassurance in his ear, but by a resounding, "Here, Here!" issued by the Weasley twins.

"To Arthur and Molly Weasley: I leave the sum of One Hundred Thousand Galleons. If not for you and Sirius, I should have never known a parent's love. You welcomed me into your home and hearts. My first solid memory of a mother's affection is from you , when you hugged me as I lay in the hospital wing after the tri-wizards tournament. My first memory of feeling the warmth of father's pride was when Mr. Weasley shook my hand and thanked me for rescuing Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets. He took my hand and told me he was proud of me. No one had ever treated me in such a fashion before. These are but two examples of the many kindnesses I experienced with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I shall ever be grateful to you both.

All my love to you both, Harry."

Molly Weasley was sobbing in her husband's embrace, whilst he whisper words of gentle encouragement.

"Quite a boy, our seventh son, Molly. Quite a boy._" _His own tears trailed down his cheeks as he rocked his beloved wife in his arms, "Quite a boy…

The minister continued after a respectful moment of reflection

"To Hermione Granger_: _Cherished friendand sister of my heart. It has been difficult, very difficult to decide upon what to leave the brightest witch of our age. Your intelligence and quick thinking has saved Ron and me many times over the years, however, this is not the thing I treasure most about you, Hermione; it is your unfailing friendship and support that has meant everything to me over the years. It took me quite some time to get it through my thick skull that every warning of; "You're going to get us in so much trouble!" and, "I told you so" , was just your way of trying to keep us safe. It was really saying _"_You're my friend" and "I love you".

I leave to you the sum of Seventy Five Thousand galleons to further your education and to champion your cause for S.P.E.W. to fight for the rights of all magical creatures."

A gasp went up from the group. It was an incredible sum of money, after all. The minister held up her hand to ask for quiet and continued, as if uninterrupted. "But for you personally, Hermione: I leave this token of my profound thanks for the gift of your love and friendship. This necklace belonged to my mother and is a Potter family heirloom."

The minister walked solemnly toward Hermione carrying long, richly appointed, velvet covered box in one hand and Harry's will in the other. She presented the box to Hermione who opened it with trembling hands as the others crowded around to peek over her shoulders. A gasp of "ohs"and "ahs" heralded the opening of the box which revealed a magnificent gold necklace that had a tear drop shaped diamond in the center, flanked by a handsome ruby and an aqua marine gemstone to either side. Hermione's knuckles were white from grasping the box so desperately her mouth stuck in an 'O'of astonishment

The minister continued to read from Harry's will.

"The first time I saw it I knew it was meant for you. Interestingly enough, the stones match; your's- the diamond, and mine and Ron's flanking birthstones. May it always remind you that the love of your friend's surrounds you-always. Good bye, sister of my heart -Harry."

Hermione's hand brushed delicately over the necklace as silent tears stained the satin cloth which the treasured necklace rested upon.

"Goodbye, brother of my...heart." She breathed so softly that only Ron, (who was holding her tenderly), could barely hear her words, but loved her for it all the more.

"To Fleur Delacour: My friend and fellow tri-wizard champion;

In rummaging through my family vault I happened upon an heirloom that I'm told once belonged to Claire Delacour- your Great Grandmother. She gifted this tiara to my Great Grandmother, Agnes, after my Great Grandfather, Harry, (after whom I am named), saved her family from harm during the war against the dark wizard,Grindenwald. I find it ironic that history has repeated itself and our two families have once again been joined in strife. I wish that future generations of Delacours and Potters could join in friendship, in a world of peace and tolerance, but I fear this will never be, as if you are hearing this now, than sadly; the Potter bloodline has ended with my demise. The tiara is Veela made and is enchanted to amplify the Veela wearer's already considerable charm and beauty. I'm sure it will look stunning on you and any future daughters you may have, even if they happen to be redheads! Yours in friendship, Harry."

Fleur's face was a mixture of shock and revelation. Bill sat next to her rubbing her back gently, offering a mixture of comfort and support.

"Did you know this about Harry's Great Grandfather, his link to your family, I mean?" "I ..I had erd storiez from my Grandmuzer about a daring young man that 'ad saved their family during the dark times of Grindenwald, but I, I ad never dreamed it vos arry's Great Grandpapa. Why did e never tell me zis? It would ave meant so much to me... to my 'ol family?"

Bill just shook his head sadly and answered, "He was just being Harry, modest and noble, as always. No doubt he was afraid that you might think yourself indebted to him in some fashion and he only ever wanted people to see him as just Harry, not _the "boy who lived _and all that rot." Fleur's face was all but unreadable as she listened to Bill's possible explanation, a single tear betraying the well of emotions beneath the surface. Her hand brushed away the tear as she stood and walked in a measured pace to the waiting minister and graciously accepted a handsome oak case that contained the treasured heirloom within. She never opened the case, just nodded her thanks and turned on her heel to address the rest. She shook her stunning mane of platinum hair back from her face, revealing radiant blue eyes that glowed defiantly. Her shoulders square, her chin held proudly high as she said;

" 'Arry was my friend. This tiara, while it iz a priceless gift to my family, it iz az nothing compared to the treazure that was 'Arry. I would pay a thousand such heirlooms if it would buy us anuzzer day with em in our lives. He.. He vas magnifizent." her voice broke and the desperate tears she had held so valiantly in check arrived, as did Bill at her side. His arm snaked around her waist and his shoulder supported her as she nuzzled into his sheltering embrace.

The gathering shifted nervously. None of them, save Bill, had suspected depth of emotion that resided beneath her cool exterior. It was quite humbling.

After several long minutes, Arthur Weasley nodded to Minister Bones and she continued to read Harry's last wishes.

"To Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny Weasley: I leave the sum of Fifty Thousand galleons each, to aid you in establishing your chosen careers. I have no words that adequately describe my profound thanks, for treating me as one of your own brothers. Whatever joy I have experienced in my life can be summed up in one word. A simple word really, but one that has numerous meanings; kindness, loyalty, generosity, courage, pride, diligence, friendship and most of all... love. It is a word that holds the most incredible magic of all. That word is:**Weasley**."

Minister Bones finished dabbing at the corner of her suspiciously moist eyes.

Fred looked as if he was contemplating a cheeky response but his twin's hand on his shoulder forestalled him. George nodded his attention to their siblings, all of whom, even Percy, were overcome in their grief and gratitude to their lost friend.

Ron's grief in particular was terrible to behold. Hermione held him in a fierce embrace, his face was buried in her long brown tresses. Ron's back shook with racking sobs that were muffled by his girlfriend's embrace. Percy hung his head shamefully as silent tears dripped down from his eyes. Bill had his arm around Charlie's shoulders as they quietly shared their grief.

Moments later a calmer Mrs. Weasley turned to her twin sons asking, "What about you two, surely Harry didn't forget about you?"

The twins looked at each other, puzzled by how to respond. Their mother's eyes narrowed in sudden contemplation,.

"Did you two do something to Harry, is that why he's left you out of his will? If I ever found that you've mistreated that boy I'll bring a curse down on you that'll make you wish I'd used the _cruciatus _by comparison_."_

"Now mother dear..." Fred began..

"Certainly, you don't think…?" George added

"How could you accuse us, of all people?" Fred finished desperately as his mother swelled up before them. She leveled her wand in imminent threat.

"Ahem, if I may shed some light?" the minister intervened, before the twins could make a run for it. Her own eyes twinkled mischievously.

"To Gred and Forge Weasley, esteemed partners in crime: No , I haven't overlooked the two of you, how could I? You two brought laughter into my life. What greater gift could I have received in a life punctuated with episodes of fear and sorrow .Despite your antics, you two are the embodiment of the aforementioned qualities that abide so richly within the Weasley family_. _You hide it well, but I'm not fooled any more than the rest of your family and friends, (though I'm not sure that Hermione has a clue that you're anything more than annoying gits)."

At this, the twins turned an accusing eye on Hermione whose eyes were downcast , but her cheeks had betrayed her as she was blushing furiously.

"Typical", George smirked.

"No faith in human kindness." Fred admonished

The minister chuckled and then continued on:

"Not only did you include me as your friend, but made it abundantly clear to me that I was- **family**. You afforded me an honored place in your business venture, one that thankfully afforded me the opportunity to anonymously affect so many other lives. I could leave you money, but we both know that you don't need it. I must instead ask you a favor; please continue to administer my _share_ of the business toward the _**foundation**_- under your own names as we previously agreed. In this way not only will this much needed assistance continue, but the tax saving benefits for your business will make it more than worth your while. Please fellows, there's no one I'd rather trust this with than my own family, my brothers; Gred and Forge.

P.S... Please accept these tokens of my friendship and gratitude."

Minister Bones brought out two small, carefully wrapped boxes and presented one each to Fred and George. Each held their prospective gift reverently in their hands. They were just about to unwrap their gifts when Mrs. Weasley interrupted them.

" Harry wasn't part of your business, was he,... and just what **foundation** does he mean?"

The twins shared a meaningful look and began.

"Harry gave us his winnings from the tri-wizards tournament to start Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes",George answered his mother.

"His only condition was that we were to buy new dress robes for Ron, before the next school ball." Fred added.

"We made Harry a full partner in the business."

"Least we could do." "Absolutely."

"He what?...You what?" their mother blurted out in astonishment her questions posed from one twin to the next rapid fire.

"Gave us the capital to start our business, we owe everything to Harry everything." "Quite right, Forge." Fred added and continued. "He wouldn't even consider taking his share of the profits from the business, told us to give it to the family."

George took over. "Harry knew you'd never take any money from him and he didn't want to insult you by offering. Besides, he knew we'd help you out financially and that you'd accept the help from us if needed."

"That did bother him more than he let on." Fred mused.

"What did, dear?" Their mother asked softly.

"It bothered him that we all insisted that he was part of the family and everything, but no one would let him help us out, you know... financially."

"Except us." George added. "As much as we all said he was part of the family, I think it hurt him that you lot wouldn't let him help you out. I think our taking that money from Harry meant more to him than it ever did to us, and that's saying something."

"Here, Here!" His brother agreed. "Harry liked the feeling of being able to help, so much so that he started the **foundation**_._"

"The **foundation**, what's that? I've never heard Harry mention anything about a foundation, have you Ron? Hermione asked, joining in their conversation.

Ron shook his head.

"Course you didn't. He kept it anonymous. You know how Harry hated drawing any attention to him? Fred admonished.

George explained. "The **foundation **is yet to be named charity that provided funds to families and orphans who have suffered because of the war with Voldemort. It provides for their needs, you know; decent school robes, books, tuition. He hated it that we all had to wear hand me down robes and use tattered text books and were just plain too poor to have some of the things that other kids have. Then think of all the orphaned kids out there that have nothing and nobody?"

"Harry thought about them." Fred displayed a rare bit of insight.

"Yeah, he sure did. He didn't just provide for the necessities, but he made sure every kid got a present for his or her birthday, and at Christmas!" George added.

"He loved presents, especially at Christmas. He never got any till he came to Hogwarts, cause of those damn muggles, the Dursleys." Fred spat angrily.

"Oh, Harry" Hermione gasped appreciatively, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. She returned to her seat by Ron who had his head in his hands, shaking his head in frustration.

"You're going to continue where Harry left off?" their mother asked hopefully

"Course we are, woman. What do you take us for?" Fred mimed shock.

George adding, "Always misunderstood. We have already continued the work. Harry was too busy, what with the war and all. We've been running things for the past year or so. It's a nice bit 'o work that he started. It's managed to scrape out what,...?

"76, 981 galleons, 6 sickles and 8 knuts, so far. " Fred answered sharply.

George raised an eyebrow skeptically," Those figures accurate?"

"Please, I'm a Weasley, one thing we know about is arithmetic, especially multiplication."Fred answered indignantly, with a wink at his mother's expense.

"Of course, forgive me." George apologized with a smirk. "Not at all."

"Your very gracious." George complimented his twin.

" I've seen you before haven't I,.. quite handsome really." Fred complimented off handily.

" Thank you" they chorused as one giggling.

"Oh, boys!" Their mother chirruped as she gathered them in a bone crunching hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"Not us mum, Harry."

Mr . Weasley had joined them in a group hug saying proudly, " Quite some boys we have, Molly. Quite some boys."

After a round of fresh hugs, the twins remembered their previously forgotten gifts. The twins tore open their perspective boxes and withdrew beautifully appointed, matching gold wizarding watches on thick gold, waist pocket chains. A series of "ohs" chorused about the room.

Fred cleared a lump from his throat and read the inscription: _"_**To Gred, for all the good times! Cheers, Harry" **He opened the watch to find a copy of their home clock with all the Weasley's names ,appointed in gold lettering, on small hands around the dial. Surprisingly it included Hermione and Fleur's names. Harry's own name was conspicuously missing from the clock.

He struggled to hold back his tears as his twin snaked his arm over Fred's shoulder to offer support.

George read his watches inscription: **"To Forge- see Gred's watch you git!" **he shook his head wistfully at that.

Chuckles sounded around the room as the twin laughed heartily, slapping each other's backs in good cheer.

George's watch face was the same as his brother's, however, on closer inspection...

"What's this little button on the side for?"

"Yeah, I've got one too." His twin added.

George cautiously pushed the button... his face paled and he gasped, "The man's a menace!"

Fred looked over his shoulder at his brother's watch. "Ew,.. Oh I say, that's just not on. Not on at all." His brother gasped in disgust.

"What is it, boys?" Their father asked.

George's face was beat red, "It's,.. ah, that is it's.."

"It's a rather fetching picture of George from last Halloween." Fred explained."He was dressed up like a common tart, and who of all people should happen by and tweak his bum... none other than one, Professor Severus Snape!"

Laughter erupted around the room mixed with a series of catcalls. For once George was at a loss for words, except to demand irritably of his laughing twin, "Let's see it then, you git?" He was referring to the button on Fred's watch.

"Why not," Fred offered over his watch, "Nothing could be worse than yours, I lead a more chaste life, after all."

"Puh-leaasee." George huffed, taking the proffered watch from his brother's hand and pressed the indicated button. Moments later he was doubled over in fits of raucous laughter. Fred pulled his watch from his twin's hand; his face had turned so red that it looked as if his hair went a shade darker.

"Well?" His brother Bill chided. Fred shook his head miserably and muttered to himself "Harry , you dirty double crossing son of a b..."

"Fred!" His mother scolded before he could finish.

"Come off it, Fred, can't be worse than George's eh?" Bill pressed cheekily.

"Oh, it's one for the record books alright." George managed to gasp out between guffaws.

"Sod off!" Fred shot back, angered by his growing humiliation.

"It was for a good cause and you know it." Fred defended. " 'Take one for the team', Isn't that what you said, George? 'Yeah, nobody will ever know', says Harry. Then you finished up with 'If you can't trust family than who can you trust', remember?" Fred reminded with a sneer of disdain.

George sobered at that. "Well, it was for a good cause, but really Fred, a picture, what were you thinking?"

"I didn't know someone had a camera, you prat. That damn Potter tricked me!"

"That's enough!" Their mother scolded. "I won't tolerate that kind of language, especially regarding Harry. Ought to be ashamed, the two of you. Give me that already." She snatched the watch from Fred's hand before he could so much as protest. His mother let out a shocking gasp when she looked at the picture revealed within the watch's case.

Fred looked as if he were about to burst into flames, he was so embarrassed.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley!" His mother shrieked, in mortification. "She's old enough to be your mother… and a professor yet? Oh, for shame!"

Fred was about to bolt from the room, but George was faster and caught his arm before he could take a step. "Oh no you don't."

"What is it?" everyone chorused in anticipation.

Mrs. Weasley covered her face with her hand and shoved the watch back into her son's hand. "You tell them!" she demanded.

He struggled to gather the remnants of his shredded pride and continued. "It was for the team, for Gryffindor!" He blurted out, proudly raising his chin.

"It's a picture of him snogging Delores Umbridge!" George howled.

There was a brief pause for his words to sink in before the room erupted in gales of laughter.

**The Burrow**

Breakfast was a quiet, somber affair, as it had been for many weeks now. The Weasley boys all ate readily enough, but not with the voracious appetites that they were famous for. Gone were the gibes and playful banter that had punctuated mealssince the day each new member had uttered their first words.

What progress Ron had made since the funeral had lapsed in Hermione's absence. She had returned home to her parents and was working in their dentist office till the summer holiday when she would return to the Burrow before herself, Ron, and hopefully Ginny, would return to Hogwart's for their Newt year of education. The twins were living in the flat above their joke shop, but still managed to be home for most meals. Charlie had returned to the dragon reserve in Romania, and Bill was back in the field, seeking treasure for Gringotts**.**

"That was a fine meal Molly, thank you." Mr. Weasley complimented.

"Are you off to the ministry then, Arthur? Try to be home for supper, won't you dear? You've been working far too hard these past months."

"Can't be helped Molly dear. You know Minister Bones has us working overtime on the new reforms and it wouldn't do to have her new under secretary leaving the office before the minister herself, now would it?" He puffed himself up proudly at the sound of his new promotion.

"I guess not, luv. We are so proud of you Arthur. Aren't we boys?"

"Here, Here!" The twins piped up taking their cue.

"Bout time they recognized the Weasley drive and intellect." George chimed while Fred added, "Not that Percy did anything useful to further the cause, the git." "Now boys" Their father admonished them. "You know your brother has taken his demotion in stride and has made amends for his behavior toward the family whilst under the former minister's misguided tenure. Try to be more understanding of your brother's situation."

Then abruptly before anyone could raise the subject everyone was anxious to avoid, he announced. "Well,… I'm off for the office. Bye all."

With a quick peck on his wife's cheek and a sharp crack, Mr. Weasley had apparated away. His hand on the family clock swung to traveling.

Charlie's, Hermione's and Bill's showed they were all at work and the rest pointed to home. Noticeably missing was Harry's hand from the beloved clock. Molly hadn't had the heart, so it fell to Arthur Weasley to remove Harry's hand from the family clock. His hand had remained frozen on 'lost', presumably because his body had never been recovered from the wreckage at Greystone Manor. Ginny had raged at her father after, though it was short lived, before finally withdrawing into herself once more.

Mrs. Weasley sighed audibly. She looked at the empty chair next to her youngest son for the tenth time this morning. Ginny had not come down for breakfast again. She rarely came to most meals, had adamantly refused to return to school for her final semester, and rarely, if ever, was seen outside of her room these days. She was fading away and no one thus far had any effect in attempting to halt her downward slide, let alone lift her spirits. Things had become so desperate that they had removed her wand from her possession, just to be safe.

Molly Weasley cleared her throat meaningfully. "Boys, why don't you look in on your sister before you go in this morning?" She tactfully caught the twins before they could follow their father's example and hurry off this morning to avoid the futility of facing their beloved sister's grief. Fred paled and looked to his brother for support, but was thankfully reprieved by their younger brother's grumbled, "Won't do any good, mum. She barely talks now. All she does is stare at that damn box that Harry left her. If she'd only open it? I don't know how, but I know that whatever Harry left in their would help her deal with things."

"Does she know how to open it , dear?" His mother asked. "Course she does, I told her what the runes say. They're a message of sorts, a riddle, one that only Ginny knows the answer to. I know she understands it, I can see it in her eyes, but she won't follow thru and open the damn box . Once it's opened, Hermione knows the next bit to help her along." Ron finished with fading hope.

"I wonder what's in it?" George said thoughtfully, to no one in particular.

"You know Harry, could be anything." His twin offered by way of an answer.

Molly Weasley looked at her youngest son and said stoically,

"Open it, Ronald. Get Hermione to help you and open it."

Ron's face blanched. He eyed his brothers nervously, but neither met his hopeful gaze, searching for their support.

"I can't mum. Hermione and I already tried that, we don't know the answer to the riddle and besides, Hermione thinks the box is keyed specifically to Ginny. Harry put some powerful charms on that box. Hermione couldn't get anywhere with it and she's an ace at Rune Lore. Ginny caught us at it and she went spare. If she had still had her wand, I don't know what would've happened." He swallowed back the lump in his throat, fighting back the anxiety he felt remembering his sister's terrible reaction to their meddling.

"Aw come on little bro, it couldn't have been that bad." George chided, though he himself was aware of their little sister's ferocious temper.

"Yeah, what's another _bat bogey hex_?" Fred added.

Ron shuddered, "The _bat bogey hex _is one thing, but this was different. Her eyes, her eyes were terrible. She raged at 'Mione. She said she'd kill us if we ever tried to open the box again! Hermione cried for hours after that, and Ginny? Ginny just curled herself up in a corner of her room and stared at that box. I checked on her the next morning and she was still there in the corner, staring at that bloody damn box! I don't think she slept that whole night."

"St. Mungo's?" George suggested to his mother.

Molly Weasley rubbed her eyes wearily and sighed, "No... I don't think so. There's no magic or medicine that can fix this broken heart, except perhaps Harry."


	9. Chapter 9:The Summer before the End

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters.**

**Chapter Nine: The Summer before the End **

**Hogwarts**

Headmistress Minerva Mcgonagal had saw the end of another school term, perhaps her last. Her heart just wasn't in it anymore. This last year had been devastating with the losses of Dumbledore, Hagrid and finally, Potter. Professors weren't supposed to attach themselves to their students, but it had been so difficult not to care for the boy. Though, of course, she had never let on that she had any such feelings for the boy, that would be wholly unprofessional.

He was so like his father in appearance, except the eyes. He also had James Potter's courage and loyalty. The eyes though, they were the image of dear Lily Potter's eyes. Harry's eyes too, radiated that same depth of feeling as his mother's; kindness, compassion and love. Lily's love had saved her child, and his love had saved the rest of us. _Phoenix Fire, _she still couldn't believe it. Albus had always said that the boy's capacity to love was his greatest power, but _Phoenix Fire_? Not for the first time or the hundredth, she wondered if Dumbledore had ever suspected Potter was capable of such a thing.

Though Harry Potter was gone, at least the Weasley children; Ronald and Ginevra, along with Hermione Granger would be returning inSeptember to finish their Seventh year and sit their Newts. It would be so strange to see Ronald and Hermione about the school without the third-Harry Potter. The three of them had been all but inseparable since their first year together. It had been difficult enough having to deal with the loss of their friend, but this terrible business with Ginny Weasley?

Ginny was doing well enough now, by all accounts, but the price had been high, too high in her opinion. If only there had been some other way to... a sudden soft breeze distracted her thoughts. Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix, was sitting on its perch. She had thought that the bird had taken to flight and caused the air to stir. Strange, her windows were closed, but still a gentle breeze drifted through her office. The phoenix's head was cocked to one side as it contemplated the soft breeze that ruffled it's feathers. A peel of thunder sounded from a cloudless sky and a terrible rending sound split the air heralding the arrival of a cloaked and hooded figure apparating directly in front of her desk, in a blinding flash of light. Thunder echoed away ominously outside.

Minerva Mcgonagal's wand flew into her hand with more speed than even she would have thought possible, given her advancing age.

" _Stupi_.." her shouted incantation died on her lips as with a wave of the intruder's hand her wand flew from her grasp. Before she could so much as take a step, her chamber door locked with an audible "**click**"

Her terrified eyes shot toward her fireplace, her last avenue of escape. As if sensing her thoughts the intruder snapped his fingers and the flames within snuffed out.

_Wand-less magic!_ She thought with growing dread. _His power must be incredible, even Dumbledore could not perform such advanced magic so effortlessly. _

"Please,.. please, professor.. I mean you no harm." The stranger's voice was hoarse from disuse, but hauntingly familiar. His hands were held open, placating. Fawkes trilled softly as the phoenix drifted down from his perch and settled on the stranger's shoulder.

"'Lo Fawkes, can't fool you, eh?" He murmured and stroked the bird's richly plumed head.

Though shocked by the phoenix's obvious display of trust in the stranger, Mcgonagal still trusted in the phoenix's instincts and allowed herself to relax slightly, gripping the edge of her desk for added support.

The stranger slowly drew back his hood saying, "I'm sorry to have startled you, but there was no other way. I couldn't risk being recognized if I chanced traveling by more conventional means."

He was young, very young, for one to command such an aura of power. At first glance he appeared no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, but his face; though his features were delicate they were drawn and haggard as if aged beyond his years. His hair was short and sandy-brown in color. His eyes, though a deep blue, they had a strange mask-like quality. He looked at her with such a strange expression; one of such loneliness and despair. He reminded her of… _No! That just wasn't possible?_

"W-Who are you? What do you want?" she asked nervously.

"I want,… that is, I need your help. As to who I am... well... that you already know."

He carefully removed something from each eye and then massaged the lids, sighing in relief. He took his hand away and opened his eyes. _They were Lily Potter's beautiful green eyes._

"Nooo,… it can't be. How dare you pretend that you're…"

" In my first year you took fifty points each from Gryffindor for being out after curfew. You caught us coming from the north tower. Hermione and I were helping Hagrid spirit away his pet dragon, Norbert."

The blood drained from McGonagal's face in recognition of the event he described. It was an event that only a rare few ever new. Her own sense of loss still refused to let her so readily believe that which she dared not even hope.

"Well really, anyone could have learnt the particulars of that story. Hagrid was always a bit free with information when he was in his cups." she scoffed indignantly.

The corners of the young stranger's mouth turned up slightly in the beginnings of a grin, it was short lived as he clutched at his left side in obvious pain.

His speech came in ragged gasps. "In so many ways… you…have….always been very kind… and fair to me. I may not have said it before, but I… have always been grateful for it. I'm including you're having taught Ron and me... how to dance in our… fourth year. You called on Ron first... and ... he turned… three shades of red. Please professor, I need…your… help?" His eyes were pleading, desperate. They had that same haunted look she had seen so often in the past; his first day at Hogwart's, then again in the tent before he faced the dragon in the first task of the Tri-wizard's tournament, and the last time she saw him that way was when he knelt beside Dumbledore's crumpled body.

"Harry, thank Merlin and Dumbledore himself! Oh my dear boy." Professor McGonagal rushed forward and grasped him by the shoulders. Her aging blue eyes searched his deep green ones.

"But how,… how is this possible? Where have you been? Oh my word, the Weasley's? We must contact them at once. They'll be so thrilled that you..."

"No!" Harry barked desperately as he clutched her extended arms. His face stern, jaw ridged. "No... they mustn't know. No one can know, at least not yet, maybe not ever. Please, professor?" He begged desperately.

"But, Mr. Potter, they're your friends, your family. Surly you'd want them to know, and ... and Miss Weasley? Oh sweet Merlin, what's to be done about Miss Weasley?" McGonagal's face paled at the thought of the change in Ginny Weasley.

A torrent of emotions swept through his eyes at the mention of Ginny's name.

"What about Ginny? She's alright isn't she? Please tell me she's alright?"

_How could she tell him? What could she tell him? _Her mind scrambled.

"She's alright, certainly, but there have been, er, certain changes. She's been... ah... able to move on recently, er, that is,... in her feelings for you. She's no longer… grieving, as it were."

His face paled ever so slightly and his grip on her arms eased as he considered her words.

_Please_, she thought, _please let that answer suffice for now. _

Though his features had changed his face was still etched with untold suffering. _Will he never know peace, just some small bit of happiness? Dear Albus, I wish you were here now. Guide me to help this young man that we both treasure in our hearts. _

"Harry, is it your face? Surly you don't think your family will care that you've changed. You're still alive. That's all that will matter to them, to any of us."

He barked a laugh at this. "My face is the least of my concerns. It does serve a purpose well enough in allowing me to remain anonymous. My contact lenses not only allow me to see, but with the right shading they alter the appearance of my eyes. Luckily, so far, no one's recognized me, though I haven't exactly been advertising. Unless things change... Harry Potter will need to remain dead. It's for the best really."

She drew her hands back from him as if scalded. "How can you say such a thing? How can you possibly feel like that? Voldemort's gone, Harry. You should know the truth of that better than anyone. The war is over. The world, your world, is at peace now,... thanks to you. Your friends would be overjoyed to learn that you've survived. What could have possibly happened to you that you would want to turn away from those who cared,... still care for you?" 

He shook his head sadly; "I miss them, you know.., but I can't go back. Not yet, not like this..." he sighed miserably.

Harry took a step back from her and made to unfasten his robe. "It's a bit of a story and I don't really know a lot of the answers myself, at least not yet. It's probably better if I just show you and then we go from there." Harry pulled up the edge of his t-shirt, revealing his torso.

Professor McGonagal, strong witch that she is, gasped and fainted at the sight before her.

**Pensive Moments**

"Professor,Professor? Please wake up professor." Harry was kneeling beside his beloved teacher patting and rubbing her hand, trying to rouse her. Finally, Minerva Mcgonagal came back to her senses with a sigh. At first startled by the strange face sitting beside her. Her confusion passed as she recalled recent events. "Did I... That is, how did I... ?" Her pale cheeks blushed in embarrassment at her present position..

"You ,er… sort of fainted, professor. I'm sorry if I frightened you. At least you see now why I can't go back to the Weasley's . Not with this?"

Professor Mcgonagal searched his too young and yet, sadly ancient eyes.

_Oh God, Albus. I wish you were here._

"Dear boy, you must be in terrible pain. Heaven knows you have a high tolerance, but this? You should be in St. Mungo's, and immediately at that!"

He shook his head. "I can't go there. They'd find out who I am in a heartbeat, and then the press would get a hold of it and tell the world. The Weasley's would find out. What if I don't make it,or worse? How will it be for everyone then?"

"Of course, you're right, but still, there must be something we can do?" She asked hopefully.

"There is actually, that's why I'm here. I know you can keep this quiet, and I was hoping that maybe Madam Pomphrey could help? I mean she's a great healer and knows me better than just about anyone, physically speaking. Hogwarts has the best library around. I thought maybe I could stay here for a bit and research my condition. With Madam Pomfrey's help, maybe we could find a way to cure this or at least keep it in check? I-I could pay. I have some money. I know it's the holiday and the staff,er,… you no doubt have plans for the summer? I ,er ... don't want to be a burden." He stammered nervously.

Professor McGonagal's eye's narrowed dangerously, her voice scolding. "A burden! Mr. Potter, do be serious? You are nothing of the sort. The entire world owes you a debt that can never be repaid."

She paused and softened gently in her response on seeing his discomfort. "I, myself,.am deeply honored that you would come to me for assistance." She reached out a hand. "If you're able, than do be a gentleman and help an aging witch up, will you?"

"Of course, professor." Harry grasped her hand and helped her up to her desk's chair, wincing slightly from the effort. Her heart clenched at seeing his obvious pain at even this small exertion, but said nothing as she knew he would prefer she remain ignorant of his discomfort.

" Oh, do take a seat Mr. Potter. I'm not that heavy, really." she harrumphed. "Now then, let's hear your story and see what's to be done about your, ah, affliction?"

Harry smiled in spite of himself. All business as usual, bless her.

"Well, there's not really all that much to tell. I was unconscious a great deal of the time. I remember bits and pieces really, and had the blanks filled in by the muggles that treated me. It would probably be easier and save a lot of time just to show you. I don't suppose that Professor Dumbledore's penseive might still be about?" He inquired hopefully.

A brief smile etched the corners of her mouth, "An excellent idea. It just so happens I found myself a bit... er, reluctant to part with most of Albus's possessions. The pensive fortunately is one such item."

She withdrew the large stone basin from the bottom most drawer of her desk and placed the penseive before him.

"I think you'll find it in good working order. You may of course borrow the use of my wand, as you've yet to return it to me, Harry." She chided him.

His face colored and he grimaced in embarrassment. "My apologies, professor."

Harry withdrew the captured wand from within the folds of his cloak and passed it across the desk to its rightful owner.

"But, surely you'll need the use of…" Her voice trailed off with a gasp as she watched her former student perform yet another seemingly impossible feat of wand-less magic. Harry had simply passed his hand over the empty basin and with a flash of silver light, the basin filled to the brim with the swirling silver strands of his recent memories.

"Mr. Potter, how…? This use of wand-less magic... it's unprecedented!"

He shrugged vaguely. "It just seems so clear now, I mean since... well, you'll see. Shall we begin?" He nodded in indication toward the penseive.

Her face paled slightly as she gazed into the waiting well of his memories.

"Harry, could we begin with... I mean, if it's not too painful, that night? I mean not just the battle, but before, on Christmas Eve at Grimauld Place.? I'd like to see for myself. Please show me?"

His eyes were haunted as his lips trembled to form words, but were unable to find them. He swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded his consent before taking her hand and guiding her into the penseive.

They found themselves standing in a soft white nothingness. Professor McGonagal looked at him questioningly. Harry for his part seemed a bit confused; this was obviously not what he had expected.

"I was going to show you the meeting I had with Hagrid and Dumbledore, before everything happened, but I guess maybe it was really only a dream, after all. It had seemed so real at the time. They had tried to prepare me for the coming battle. They knew the final confrontation was upon me. The atmosphere was soft and white like this, but we were on the Hogwart's grounds at Hagrid's hut, and... I don't know, maybe it was just a dream?" He shrugged helplessly at her.

"A dream, hmm? I think not." She tapped her chin thoughtfully before continuing. "You're not the first wizard to describe such an occurrence, and with Dumbledore in the equation, anything's possible. I believe what you experienced is for you, Harry, and you alone. The dead do not give up their secrets lightly. Perhaps we should move on to Grimauld Place, yes?"

Harry reluctantly nodded and the scene changed. He was sighting on the side of Sirius's bed and Voldemort's voice was taunting him. He could tell by the pale expression on Mcgonagal's face that she could here every cruel word.

_You will come to me this very night, ...'draught of living death. You have an hour or she is lost for all time! Ha, Ha, Ha..." _

McGonagal gasped beside him and clutched his arm for support.

Before she could make a comment the scene rapidly changed to one of utter chaos;

_The door to his room burst outward at his touch, Hermione was calling to him as he raced for the stairs, the Weasley brothers were down stairs trying to block his departure, Harry disarmed them all with a wave of his hand, Hermione's spell rebounded off of his shield and incapacitated herself instead, the Weasley boys throwing themselves bodily at him trying desperately to subdue Harry and finally,... Molly Weasley's kind voice brought him haltingly to his knees. Her voice was soft, mesmerizing. "I love my daughter. We all love Ginny and would do anything to have her back here safely with us... but,... I could never sacrifice one of my children for another."_

His memory froze, locked in the moment of holding him in her arms.

McGonagal dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, sniffling softly .

Harry stood rock still. His face was etched in regret. "She's the only mother I've ever really known. My first memory of being hugged, as if by a mother, was because of her. I never meant to hurt her, you know? I never thought myself capable of hurting her, of any of them really. D- Does she hate me, now?"

"Hate you?" McGonagal appeared scandalized by the thought. "She hates that you were taken from them. She hates that she and Arthur were forced to bury one of their own. She hates that her children must suffer your loss, but, she could not ever hate you. My dear boy,… she loves you. She loved you then and she loves you now. She loves you with the memory and pride that only a mother could have for her own son."

Harry wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe, nodding gratefully.

"Perhaps this would be a good time for us to take break, yes?" She offered. "You look as if you could do with a meal and a bit of rest. I'll have the kitchens send something up, and with your permission, I think it would be wise to have Madam Pomfrey have a look at that?" She pointed toward the left side of his torso in trepidation. Harry nodded and mumbled his thanks as she swept from the room.

**Hogwarts, later that night**

"He's asleep, the poor dear. I put him in Dumbledore's vacant chamber. It's secure and I thought it's what Dumbledore would've wanted. He was always very fond of the boy. I gave him a potion of 'dreamless sleep'. He should rest comfortably, if such a thing is even possible for him."

Professor McGonagal nodded knowingly and gestured to the chair in front of her desk

"Do sit down, Poppy." she groused. "You look as if you could use a good night's sleep yourself." Madam Pomfrey snorted, "I haven't had a decent night's rest since the day that boy entered this school, and it's still the same now that he's dead, so to speak."

The corners of McGonagal's mouth turned up briefly, before turning dead serious.

"Can you help him?"

Pomfrey's face paled, "I don't know Minerva. I honestly don't know.I've never seen or even heard of anything like this before. That terrible wound in his side...?" She shuddered involuntarily, which gave McGonagal pause, she'd never seen Pomfrey shaken before.

"It's a poisoned wound by all accounts, but it doesn't appear entirely physical in nature. If that makes any sense at all? It's like a wound of both body and spirit. I would hazard a guess that not just dark magic, but pure concentrated evil was inflicted upon the boy. I assume that bastard, Voldemort, did this to him?"

McGonagal pursed her lips and nodded, as she recalled the remainder of Harry's shared memories of the final battle, which he revealed to her after they had a brief respite.

"I'm sorry I can't be more specific, Poppy, but, if you ask Mr. Potter, I'm sure he'll share the particulars with you."

Pomfrey waved her hand dismissively, "Well whatever that evil wanker did, it's poisoned his system. Harry's body and magic are constantly fighting against it. He must be expending incredible amounts of energy just holding **it**, whatever **it **is, in check. One thing I do know for sure is that the more he expends his magically energy, the more this thing kills him. For the life of me, I don't know how he's made it this long."

She really hadn't told McGonagal anything she hadn't already expected to hear. More properly, she had just confirmed her worst fears. Though the news wasn't good ,it was still infinitely better than the cold reality of the loss she had felt only this morning.

"What if he were to live as a muggle, no magic, not at anytime, not for any reason? If he were to learn not to tax his power, could it sustain him? Would his magic, if left untapped, be strong enough to hold this affliction at bay?"

Though appalled by the thought of taking away the boy's magical ability, in effect -crippling him, Pomfrey paused to consider her suggestion.

"Possibly it could. But the boy's body has been severely weakened, not just from the battle but by all that he suffered afterward."

Mcgonagal's mind drifted back to the revelations she experienced within the pensieve. Harry had indeed called up the magic of _Phoenix Fire. _With but the touch of his hand he had taken the _curse of the werewolf _from Remus Lupin. She was surprised to learn that he knew of the changes he'd wrought, or at least sensed it on some level. He said he could feel the _curse_ within Lupin, had willed it from his friend's body and took it upon himself. The _fire _had then burned away the last vestiges of the _curse_, destroying it as if it were an invading organism or infection. The encounter with Lupin in itself, had provided a timely diversion, allowing Harry to make good his escape from Grimauld Place.

To see him in the throes of the _fire, _was absolutely astounding. Such incredible power,… and the ease with which he handled it was incredible. Waves of power washed over the boy and surrounded his friends, not only keeping them at bay, but, affording them the experience of actually feeling the depth of his love for them. He had allowed them an intimate glimpse into his very soul. Then, with a burst of power, he rose into the air and flew as the _phoenix of legend_, a bird of flame soaring through the night sky. It was a magnificent site, one that she would always be grateful to him for sharing.

The wonder of flight was all to rapidly replaced with vile memories of Belatrix Lestrange. Thankfully, their battle had been brief and ended in what McGonagal considered a most satisfactory conclusion. She had watched as Harry descended into the bowels of Greystone Manor. She marveled at his courage when he stood before Voldemort, defiant and unwavering. Her heart clenched when he pulled Ginny Weasley from the depths of despair that was the result of having succumbed to the _draught__ of living death._

She ached for Harry and Ginny both. Watching them as they gazed into each other's eyes for what may have been the last time. The love and passion within that smoldering gaze was palpable. Harry had wept softly as he was forced to watch himself let her go. It was then that she knew, really knew, what it was to be Harry Potter. It was there, plain as day, in their parting. He was willing to give up his hopes, his dreams, the very love of his life, all to save the rest of us.

Never before had she felt so humbled. She wanted so desperately to tell him how much his sacrifice was appreciated. How much he meant to everyone. What a difference he had made in their lives, but, she could find no words. How could one possibly thank someone, for having the courage to break their own heart? The words died on her lips as the moment passed.

The Death Eaters attacked next. The battle was upon him and Harry rose to it magnificently. Albus would have been so proud, not just for his prowess, which was considerable, but for the depth of his compassion and the mercy he showed in sparing known Death Eaters. After the last of the Death Eaters were either vanquished or fled. It was Voldemort's turn then. She watched in horror as in his madness, Voldemort assumed the form of an enormous _spectral basilisk_. Harry released the _fire_ once more and transformed himself into the _phoenix of legend, _a gigantic bird of flame.

A titanic battle ensued, raging in the depths of Greystone. Talons ripped and tore. Coils lashed and great fangs gouged into. the _phoenix's_ side. This is when he received the dreadful wound that now threatened his life. This is when he'd been cursed with the dread infection that kept him from rejoining those he loves. He sought to spare them having to suffer his loss all over again, or worse, having the evil that pulses within that festering wound take root and transform him into the very thing he fought so hard to save them all from.

The battle had ended with Greystone Manor collapsing and burying both combatants under tons of rubble. How Harry had managed to survive the cave-in was a miracle. She bore silent witness as he stumbled in the darkness for days, weeks even, as he relentlessly pursued an escape from his rocky tomb. Her stomach turned as she watched him choke down lichen and drink from muddy, stagnate puddles, or desperately lick moisture from the cavern walls. Finally, blessedly, he tore himself free from the confining rock only to emerge in the dead of winter, wounded, starving and ill clothed. Under the conditions, his fate seemed certain. Death would be a welcome release, but sadly, his suffering was not yet over.

His next memories were a fragmented jumble: A fishing boat pulling him aboard, a muggle ambulance's sirens wailing in the cold night air,... needles, tubes,... a soothing voice ,and finally- blackness. Harry had emerged from what was undoubtedly a coma, some months later. He found himself in the muggle hospital of St. Michael's. At first thinking himself blind, his sudden panic was relieved by that same soothing voice guiding his hands to the bandages that covered his face.

Her name was Rachel, she was the nurse on duty when he had been brought in some months back. He had undergone facial reconstruction to repair the damage done by exposure to the elements- frostbite. She had told him he was 'quite lucky really, it could have been much worse'. He had no identification upon himself so the staff at St. Michael's y had only been able to guess at his true appearance.

The '_grafts_'? Yes, that's what she called them, '_grafts', _had come out nicely and all the nurse's thought he was quite handsome_. _They told him that he was not to worry about his hair; it would grow back soon enough now that his treatment was finished. The doctors had determined that he had some form of' 'blood disease', or other, and had treated it with, er…' chemo drugs', whatever that was? Unfortunately, the treatment had failed and the doctors had little hope that he would make a complete recovery_. _

'We're all very sorry we couldn't do more, Mr...ah, say, what exactly is your name?" Rachel had asked.

"Alan,.. Alan Brandt" His reply.

"Hmm, Alan is it? I like that. I'm pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Brandt."

McGonagal had many questions, especially regarding his obvious attempt to conceal his true identity, but held herself in check. He was tiring and McGonagal could sense that their time within the penseive was drawing to a close. When the bandages were at last removed, he would never have recognized himself if it hadn't been for his green eyes. His hair, at least, had been a pleasant shock. No longer black and unruly it had grown in straight and brown, 'a common occurrence in the aftermath of chemo-drugs', according to Rachel. She proceeded to tell him that 'some detectives would be coming round soon to ask him some questions. Some reporters were interested in his story, as well.

After receiving that bit of information, Harry had needed little convincing to leave, and soon. That evening, despite being wand-less, he was able to apparate away. Professor McGonagal had received a brief glimpse of his arriving in a small cottage before Harry abruptly ended the memory and drew her from the penseive.

"Minerva? Minnie,… are you with me? I think you drifted off for a bit, old friend."

With some effort, Madam Pomfrey brought her out of her musings over what she experienced within the penseive.

"Oh, I do apologize, Poppy. I was lost in memories for a bit. Mr. Potter took me on a journey through his recent memories with the use of Dumbledore's penseive. It would seem he was treated at a muggle hospital after he won free of the caves beneath Greystone. They repaired his face with 'grafts', I believe they were called? Apparently he had a bout of frost-bite and they surgically repaired his damaged skin, changing his appearance in the process. They used some form of potion they called 'chemo-drugs', to try and treat the poisoning from his wound- unsuccessfully of course. All they seemed able to accomplish is causing his hair to fall out. It grew back in, differently though. I dare say that it is at least an improvement over the unruly hair he inherited from his father.

Pomfrey snorted a laugh, "On that note, I'd say I have to agree. As to the rest, it sounds like the medicine practiced in the middle ages! Good Lord, all they truly managed to do was weaken the boy further. I understand his reluctance to go to St. Mungo's, given, ah... recent circumstances, but frankly, I'm not sure what I can do for the boy? All I can recommend for the time being is restricting the use of all magic. Let his own considerable power have a chance to deal with this thing. I would also suggest building him up; exercise, strengthening potions, proper nutrition and rest. We should try anything and everything that can build up his natural and magical strength, and that of his body's own natural defenses. In the meantime, I'll do some research to see if there's any information that may lead to a cure for his affliction. "

Mcgonagal nodded her head appreciatively, "Yes, that sounds reasonable, however, I believe you had some plans in place for the holiday? Surely I could…?"

Pomfrey waved her off dismissively. She didn't bother to cover the outrage in her voice.

"Oh pish and poppycock! You shame me by suggesting such a thing, Minerva. Do you think I'd actually shirk the chance to stay and help the boy,... especially **this** boy? How many times, Minerva? How many times has that boy been under my care? I know his physical and magical health better than anyone. Of all the times I've treated that unfortunate boy, how many of those wounds were meant for someone else? How many times did he shield someone, take **their** injury, **their** pain, upon himself,... and never a complaint. Never a word of regret for doing so. It is my duty, nay, my privilege and honor to care for Harry Potter." she crowed proudly, puffing herself up.

McGonagal's face was a mixture of shock and amusement, "My apologies Poppy. I never meant to offend you, but, young master Potter has made it quite clear to me that he doesn't want to impose upon, or be a burden to anyone. Given that, I felt compelled to ask."

Pomfrey snorted again, "A burden, hah! We should all be so burdened. We all owe the boy more than can ever be repaid."

"I quite agree. I..." She paused to dab at her eyes with her ever present lace handkerchief, (a present from Dumbledore that she was never without). Poppy was a bit startled. Over the years of their friendship she had grown to know better than most that Minerva McGonagal, though she rarely displayed it, was a witch of deep feelings. It was a rare occasion , very rare, to see a tear glisten within her friend's eye.

"Minerva...?"

She gave the nurse a brave grin and reaching across her desk, grasped her friend's hand warmly. "I'm sorry .It's just that... well, I've always been able to maintain a professional detachment with my students, no matter how endearing some of them may be, but this boy... he...he just found a way in. That sweet, kind, **exasperating**, … brave sweet boy. I wanted so much not to care about the boy, but I'm afraid it's just impossible. There's just something about him that gets to you, gets inside your heart and just won't let go."

Poppy squeezed her hand reassuringly, "I know what you mean. I'd be lying if I didn't say I feel the same way too. **Exasperating **though, oh my yes, he is most certainly that too." She finished, chuckling warmly.

"Well aren't we a pair of old Grandmothers?"

"Speak for yourself, I'm not old."

"Tea before we turn in ,Poppy?"

"I'd love some, thank you." she answered politely before asking what she was dying to know.

"He really managed _Phoenix Fire_?"

"Really did. It was breathtaking to behold." "Never ceases to amaze, that one." Pomfrey stated wistfully

"No, he never does, Poppy. He never does."


	10. Chapter 10:The End is the Beginning

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters.**

**Chapter Ten: The End is the Beginning**

Sweat stained through his t-shirt and ran steadily down into his eyes, stinging them. _Another mile, the gate to Hogwart's grounds was almost in site. Just another mile and I can take a breather. _His mind desperately sought some diversion to distract him from the numerous aches of his straining muscles.

He thought back on the article he'd read that morning in the Daily Prophet. _The article had alluded to growing turmoil in some of the dark creature colonies of Northeastern Europe. There was evidence of growing unrest in some of the mountain giant tribes around the Alps. There were also reports of a few skirmishes in some of the dragon reserves in Eastern Europe, but gladly Charlie Weasley's camp , R.I.D.E.R. , the Romanian International____Dragon Educational Reserve, was not among those listed as having experienced problems.___

It was just a guess, but his gut told him Morvis was involved. Morvis was among the few Death Eaters who remained at large. The man had a special penchant for being able to manipulate dark creatures to do his bidding. He would keep a wary eye on the situation, though what he could do if real trouble started was uncertain.

He could no longer summon the _Phoenix Fire_, at least nothing more than a faint reminder of what it had once been. McGonagal had strictly forbidden him from drawing on his magical reserves. She feared it would allow the darkness that festered within him a 'strangle hold' on his existence if given the opportunity_._ So far, admittedly, he was feeling both better and stronger than he had before

Harry had undertaken a daily exercise program that was designed to strengthen and promote his well being. Truthfully, it had been nothing short of grueling. Daily walks had progressed to jogs. He was now at daily runs of six to eight kilometers. In addition to his morning runs, he had weight training on alternate afternoons with swimming and self defense lessons.

McGonagal had insisted upon martial arts training for him with the final argument that _" Although the threat of the Dark Lord has been eliminated, thanks to Harry Potter. The world remains an uncertain and potentially dangerous place for Alan Brandt, (his chosen alter ego). He, (Alan), would need to learn to defend himself in whatever means available_. _Besides, it's good for your conditioning." _He had to admit the truth of that last statement , his training with Richard Sanders had proven to be his most difficult challenge. Thankfully, this afternoon he'd be swimming.

Mcgonagal had transfigured the prefect's bathroom tub into a single lap, Olympic length pool. The only downside was that Moaning Myrtle frequently made an appearance, thankfully, a brief one. She was nowhere near as fond of Alan Brandt, as she was the former Harry Potter.

_At last the gates!_ His spirits rose at seeing the end in sight.

Hopefully, he'd make the showers before McGonagal could corner him for a daily report on the distance and time of his run. She expected, no, she **demanded** daily progress reports. The woman would have made an excellent drill sergeant.

**The Burrow, Late July**

"You're sure you're up to this, 'Mione. I mean, I could make the trip without you if you wanted. It would be okay."

Hermione Granger rounded on her exasperating boyfriend and jabbed her finger into his chest to augment her feelings on the subject. "It's Hermione, Ronald, and **no**,...I will most certainly not be skiving this off. I'm not made of glass, despite what you may think. He was my friend as much as he was yours and we're doing this, **together**."

Ron Weasley held his hands up in surrender," Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm Just saying that I know this will be hard and all and…"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course it'll be hard, that's why it's worth doing. Besides, when were things ever easy where Harry was concerned?"

"You've got that right in one." He answered with a smirk, before turning somber and shuffling his feet nervously. "Should we, er, ask Ginny if she wants to come?"

Hermione's brow knitted as she considered the discomfiture of his proposition.

"Hmm, no… I don't think so. Try and keep in mind, Ronald, she isn't the same person now, at least not where Harry's concerned. She remembers him, his appearance, his voice, even some of the things he did, like playing Quidditch, but the rest is gone. All of her feelings, her emotions and all the pain it brought her when he... died, that's all been erased. He's nothing more than an acquaintance to her now. He's someone she knows of, but doesn't know, at least not in the ways that count."

Ron's eyes were downcast; he stubbed his toe absently as mulled over her explanation. He knew all this already, but it still seemed such a hard concept to grasp, so alien.

"I know I've asked that a thousand times already 'Mioneee." He drawled intentionally.

No eye rolling or exasperating sighs answered him. She felt the same way. Logically she could understand what had been done and its ramifications, but it was another thing having to live it. She hated how she had to dance around the subject of Harry whenever Ginny was around. It didn't seem fair. Nothing about this was in any way fair. She fought back her conflicting emotions, convincing herself that she had not betrayed the memory of their friend. _It had been for the best,... hadn't it? _

She put on a brave face and hugged Ron reassuringly, seeking comfort for herself as much as for him.

"We had to, you know that. We all knew it was for the best. God, Ron,... if you hadn't stopped her, she'd be dead now. It was so close."

Ron shuddered in her arms as the memory of that night played over freshly in his mind.

She tightened her hold and continued, "There was no other way, and besides, look how happy she is now. She's even talking about dating when she gets back to school. She's, ah ,…been seeing Collin Creavey a time or two over the summer already, though I'm sure they're just on friendly terms presently."

Ron pulled out of her grasp; his face was twisted in a sour grimace. "Great picture, Hermione, thanks." He spat bitterly.

"I know, I know." She rasped wistfully. "I don't like it either. It's just something we'll have to get used to. Harry's gone, and to Ginny,... well, he just never was."

Ron pulled her back into his arms and mumbled in agreement. "I know, you're right. It just hurts so much sometimes."

She kissed his cheek and smiled tenderly, "We can take it, as long as we have each other. Ginny was all alone, in a very dark place within herself. Better us than her, yeah?"

He nodded. "We should get going. I, er, got some flowers from out of the garden." he added sheepishly.

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Lovely idea. Let's be off then."

Grasping hands they made a slight turn to the right and with a 'pop', they apparated to Godric's Hollow.

The sun was warm and bright as the couple strolled quietly toward the small graveyard adjoining St. Timothy's Parish. Their conversation was light and simple, just trying to pass the time and avoid any darker thoughts on an already emotionally charged day. They entered the cemetery and made their way to the small family plot in the south corner. Ron handed her the small bouquet of fresh flowers that he had gathered from his mother's garden. Hermione knelt before the head stone and laid the bouquet before it.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." she sniffed.

The minutes became hours as they reminisced and shared their grief over the loss of their friend. Finally, it was time to depart. Hand in hand they left the tiny graveyard.

Ron stiffened as he suddenly remembered. "Give me a second, Hermione"

He trotted back to the headstone, pulled out his wand and conjured two white roses. Ron carefully laid a single rose to either side on the adjoining headstones and then rejoined Hermione at the cemetery gate."

"Why, Ron, that was a lovely idea." she complimented.

He shrugged his shoulders as he took her arm guiding her from the graveyard. "Wish I could take credit for it, but it's Harry's idea. He told me once that he always left a white rose on each of his parent's graves whenever he visited them."

**Hogwarts**

_Where had the summer gone? _McGonagal thought. Here it was already the thirty-first of August on the eve of yet another year of magical education that would begin at Hogwarts. As much as she looked forward to the coming semester, something she had in truth dreaded up until last June, her feelings regarding the coming school year were bittersweet. Gladly, it would see the return of the youngest Weasley's and Ms. Granger, however, Harry would unfortunately be leaving in the morning.

She watched him now from her office window as he sped across the Quidditch pitch. She was gladdened in her heart that he had been able to enjoy at least the small pleasure of flying on his broom. Though unable to use his magic without weakening his body's defenses, he was at least able to fly. The use of a broom required only an individual's magical signature and skill. The broom itself had its own magical core to draw upon.

_He had been quite a flyer before, but now_! She thought in awe as she watched him from her tower window. _What the boy could do on a broomstick was nothing short of amazing. Even Charlie Weasley at his best, couldn't come close to matching young Mr. Potter's skill and daring_. It was the 'daring' that troubled her at times.

Sometimes he flew with such reckless abandon that she could not help but wonder if her young charge had finally given up his eternal struggle to have a life, a future, and was secretly welcoming death's embrace. The stunt he had pulled last week had reached the end of her tolerance, not to mention nearly given her heart failure!

Harry had ascended as high as his broomstick would go before it started to falter and lose altitude. He did a backward loop and rode the broom straight toward the ground using gravity to augment the broom's own natural speed. At the last possible instant he rolled his body under the broom, using his weight and strength to alter the broom's trajectory just enough to keep from plowing into the ground, instead he skimmed along the grass of the pitch in a near perfect ninety degree angle to his previous dive. His back had been so close to the lawn that his passing had left grass stains from his shoulders to his calves. It was only under the threat of grounding him permanently, that he had finally relented in his mad aerobatic quest.

Despite her misgivings about his occasional recklessness on a broom, she could not be more proud of him. He had given his all this summer, and it showed. No longer pale and too thin, Harry had filled out quite nicely over the summer. His back and shoulders had broadened. His stomach was flat and well muscled... and his arms! Though not over sized and bulky, his arms were well muscled, but still afforded him a lean, well honed appearance.

His Martial Arts instructor, Richard Sanders, had nothing but praise for the boy's abilities. Going so far as to claim that Harry was the best he had ever taught, a natural fighter. _No surprise there._ Though his physical gains had been exceptional, it was his advancement in other areas that had proved an unexpected bonus.

Harry had always been a middling student, (when it came to his magical education), at best. Oh, he was talented and had a decent mind, but, there were too many distractions throughout the years for him ever to have a chance to explore his full potential. When the boy wasn't fighting for his life against Voldemort and his minions, he was enjoying what little free time life afforded him in other pursuits, Quidditch and eventually- girls. Which is as it should be, for a teenager. However, this latest little opportunity for him to explore or appreciate his magical education..? Unbeknownst to her, until recent days, Harry had been doing quite a bit of exploring.

Harry had been spending his nights in the school library. He was not searching for a cure for his affliction, as McGonagal had at first supposed, but, was instead researching ancient magic's in an attempt to find a means of continuing his existence within the magical community.

Early on, Poppy Pomfrey had exhausted all avenues of a potential cure for Harry's condition and focused their efforts on maintaining or improving upon his current physical condition. Voldemort had used an ancient, unthinkable, dark spell called; _Serpentsotum Necro Totalus. _The spell, in effect, was a suicide mission for its caster. It transformed the host and his ambient magic in its entirety, into a giant _**Spectral Basilisk**_. The difference between this creature and the true Basilisk, is that the poison delivered by the bite of the Spectral Basilisk not only destroys it's intended victim's body , albeit slowly- oh so slowly and painfully, but, also poisons his magic, or soul, eventually destroying it as well. The caster of such a spell gives over his life, his very essence, to ensure the destruction of his enemy, both in life and in death.

Voldemort's terrible hatred had been such that he had made sure that , not only would he take Harry with him in death, but he had destroyed any hope for his having an afterlife, as well. To make matters worse,( if they could be any worse), the taint was such that Harry could not even consider fathering a child, for fear of risking corrupting the body and soul of his progeny. All avenues of a continued existence were effectively closed to Harry Potter. McGonagal could think of no worse fate than the curse Voldemort had bestowed upon Harry.

McGonagal wiped a stray tear away from the corner of her eye as she recalled the day that she and Poppy had broke the news to Harry. His reaction had been... surprising? He listened calmly to their explanations; his features were almost...serene. He refused to hear a word of apology for their lack of success, but instead, thanked and praised them for their efforts on his behalf. She was as shocked today as she had been then.

They had delivered the 'ultimate death sentence' to him and he just sat there with this infuriatingly calm expression on his face and said, "That's the future. For now, I intend to live."

He followed this brave announcement with an unusual request of Madam Pomfrey. It had taken considerable effort, but Poppy had managed to close Harry's wound on the surface and instill a _glamour _charm that gave his torso a natural healthy appearance, effectively masking the corruption that raged beneath the false surface. The wound was not only invisible to the naked eye, but would not register under magical evaluation unless the counter charm is first applied.

They had some reservations when he first requested the procedure, fearful that he was contemplating sexual activity. Sensing their line of thought he assured them that his intentions were honorable, (_as if they had ever been otherwise)_, she mentally scolded herself.

They had half expected that he would go off on some suicidal, reckless binge to try and fill his every waking moment in search of some new thrill or pleasurable pursuit. Instead, he threw himself into training both mind and body. Death was knocking at the door and Harry was not only going to answer, but he was going to give him one hell of a fight before he succumbed to the black nothingness that awaited him in the grave.

**The Burrow**

Molly Weasley poked her head into her daughter's room, "Everything ready for in the morning, dears?"

"Yes, Mum, our trunks are all packed. Hermione and I were just trying to decide what outfit to wear for our trip back to Hogwarts. Thanks so much for the new school robes, Mum." Ron finished appreciatively.

"Not at all, dear. Hermione, could I have a quick word with you and Ron before you turn in?" She passed Hermione a worried look .

"Ah, sure… Mrs. Weasley. Excuse me Ginny."

"Sure, sure," The younger girl waved dismissively. "Hmn.. I think the blue skirt. Collin likes blue." she contemplated under her breath, not paying attention to the worried glances her friend and mother shared as they left the room.

Molly led Hermione to Ron's room and found him waiting along with his father. Mr. Weasley was holding Harry's gift for Ginny, (the hand carved wooden chest), reverently in his hands. After the women entered, he waved his wand and mouthed a _silencing_ charm on the room.

"Good, now that you're both here."he began softly. "Molly and I would like you both to know how very proud we are of you, for what you've done for Ginny. I know it was a hard thing to do, Merlin knows I couldn't have found the courage to do it. I know that on some level you feel that you've betrayed Harry's memory, but I tell you this, he would have wanted you to do it."

Ron had his face buried in his hands as he sat on the edge of his bed. His father patted his shoulder reassuringly. Hermione began to weep and thankfully found comfort in Molly's waiting arms.

"There, there," She cooed softly. "I admit I was upset at the time, but we all agree it was for the best. Things couldn't go on the way they were, and after Ginny tried to take her life… well, there was just no choice really. Drastic times, call for drastic measures. Thank God, that you two had the love and courage to do for Ginny what the rest of us couldn't. By taking away the memory of her feelings for Harry, you took away her grief and despair. You gave her a chance for a life, for happiness. It was in its way, everything that Harry wanted for her. More than anything else, Harry would have wanted her to go on, to be happy. It's what he would have wanted for all of us."

She gaze lovingly into the eyes of who she hoped would be her future daughter in-law."Hermione, dear, Arthur and I would like for you to take possession of Harry's last gift to Ginny."

Hermione stiffened in her arms, but Molly continued unabated. "Things being the way that they are, and Ginny's curiosity being what it is, well… no good can come from her finding out about Harry's gift, and God forbid she actually opens it."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it doesn't matter, the charm can't be reversed. The box belongs to Ginny. I won't take Harry's last gift from her... I can't."

Molly Weasly looked to her husband for support.

Arthur cleared his throat and continued. "The charm you used is supposed to be irreversible, but Harry's abilities being what they are, there could be almost anything inside that box? Should we really risk her opening the box and being confronted with some memory that could trigger a relapse? We could find ourselves in the same dreadful circumstances we faced this past spring. Only this time, we may not be so lucky as to have Ron catch her before she manages to take her own life."

Hermione sobbed louder as she remembered that terrible night last March:

_Ginny had bolted into the night, if Ron had not been up getting a snack to appease his never ending appetite, the family would have never known she had left. Ron pounded after her, and found her kneeling by the family pond. The moon reflected off the handsome wood of his Harry's gift box, which she held tightly in the crook of her left arm, cradling it against her heart. Her right hand held Harry's wand to her temple, the words;" Avada Ke…." , falling from her lips. _

_Ron's desperate lunge knocked the wand from away from its intended target before she could complete the words of the killing curse. A brief struggle ensued. Had Ginny not been so weakened by weeks of poor sleep and neglecting to eat, she may have won out. Ron had barely managed to wrench the wand from her grasp and threw it into the dark waters of the nearby pond, safely out of reach. _

_Ron had managed to drag his sister back to the Burrow and held her in a vice like grip until her struggling ceased and she succumbed to exhaustion , drifting off to sleep. Shortly after sunrise, the family found him stoned faced on the living room sofa with Ginny still locked protectively in his arms. It was then that the family had decided on a desperate course of action. _

_With a specialized form of memory charm, they would effectively remove the memory of her feelings for Harry. She would remember him as an acquaintance, but nothing more. Any memories that triggered feelings of affection associated with Harry Potter were removed. She would remember only friendly, generic encounters. _

_Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had taken the matter up at an emergency family gathering, putting the option to a vote. No one of them had wanted the responsibility for completing the dread task._

_Charlie had broken down and sobbed openly, begging his parents to reconsider._

_The twin's faces had mirrored his despair, but they nodded reluctantly; neither looked as if they would ever laugh again. _

_Percy had continued to mumble any possible alternatives he could think of, desperately trying to avoid the inevitable, before he to consented. _

_Bill, held an overwrought Fleur in his arms, crying himself, but nodded his assent. _

_She and Ron held hands and reluctantly agreed to perform the charm with the blessings of all present, save Charlie._

_The twins were forced to restrain their older brother, who had struggled mightily until his father wrenched him into his arms, begging him not to make this more difficult than it already was. Charlie had ceased his struggles, but fled the family home, vehemently proclaiming that he would have 'no part in raping his sister's heart and mind!'_

_Blessedly, Ginny had been under sedation since the night of her ill fated suicide attempt. Had Hermione been forced to look into her heart broken, tender brown eyes, she would not have found the courage to complete her task. Two days later; Ginny had awakened a bright smiling, care-free teenager, looking forward to her approaching summer holiday. The rest of the family, though relieved, wished they could share her enthusiasm._

"Hermione?" Mr. Weasley's concerned voice brought her out of this painful memory.

" Y-Yes" she stammered.

Arthur Weasley held the box out to her. "Molly and I would like for you to take possession of Harry's gift to Ginny. Open it, don't open it, it's entirely up to you. It was obviously the product of many, many hours of hard work and love. Keep it in your family. Let it serve as a reminder of someone whose love saved us all. Someone we shall always hold tenderly in our own hearts."

With trembling hands she accepted the beautiful box that Harry had made for Ginny. She ran her fingers over the carving of the intertwined hearts and mumbled softly, "Please forgive me, Harry."

**Hogwarts**

Their parting had been bittersweet. Having shared a last meal together, Harry had decided to leave the castle that night, rather than remain till morning. McGonagal and Pomfrey, had both tried to ascertain his plans for the immediate future, but Harry had deftly avoided and deflected their most pointed questions. All they had been able to obtain from him were the promises; that he would not call upon his inherent magic unless absolutely necessary, to keep in touch and lastly, that he would seek their assistance, at anytime for any reason. McGonagal had made him give his word. One thing she knew after many years of dealing with Harry Potter is that he rarely gave his word, but when he did he always honored it- always.

Those were Harry's concessions; McGonagal and Pomfrey had had to make their own. Harry had insisted that from this day forward- Harry Potter no longer existed. His name and identity were that of Alan Brandt. He did not make them swear to it, for he knew that they would never honor it in secret. However, he did make them swear that they would never divulge knowledge of his continued existence to his family (the Weasley's) or his other friends. This was up to, including, and after his impending demise. He made them swear it on the memory of Albus Dumbledore, and their hope to rejoin him in the afterlife.

He still, after having suffered so much, refused the potential comforts of home and family, wishing to spare them the pain of having to lose him all over again when he finally succumbed to Voldemort's curse. Even now, he still protected those he cared for.

Their walk to the castle gate had been pleasant enough, chatting amicably over memories of less troubled times. When they arrived at the gate, McGonagal had made a last plea of him to remain a guest of the castle.

He smiled appreciatively, but declined by stating, "As much as I love it here and enjoy your friendships, your mission is to shape the future for young wizards and witches, not cling to the past. Besides, your new 'Head Girl' is the cleverest witch of her generation; it wouldn't be long before she'd ferret out my existence."

Again, he made no mention of Ginny Weasley, as he had not done since his arrival. McGonagal could not help but wonder if he didn't already know and accept the fate of young Ms. Weasley .She cursed herself, again, for having lacked the courage to tell him what had befallen Ginny after his supposed demise. He, above all others, deserved to know, but she still hoped to spare him this last heartache in what was an already sorrowful existence.

Harry thanked them profusely for their care and concern, stammering his heartfelt thanks before hugging and kissing, the cheek of each witch. He took a step back and with a flash of lightning, he was gone. A peel of thunder followed in his wake.

Their shocked silence of his method of travel was interrupted by Minerva's chuckle."The boy never ceases to amaze, does he, Poppy?"

Pomfrey shook her head in wonder stating, "I was wrong Minerva."

McGonagal raised an eyebrow and questioned. "How's that old friend?"

"Albus Dumbledore is the second greatest wizard that ever lived."


	11. Chapter 11: Learning New Ways

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters.**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: LEARNING NEW WAYS**

**Hogwarts**

The welcoming feast was more a more subdued affair than usual; many students had returned, some had not. Most notably of those not attending their final year was Draco Malfoy, having elected to finish his magical education at Durmstrang.

Ron had been quick to point out his absence from the Slytherin table to Hermione. "No doubt the git's in hiding now that his goons Goyle and Nott are out of the picture. She shushed him in anticipation of the head mistress's address, but had been disappointed that the professor had made no mention of recent events, though she left the podium with an odd gleam in her eye.

McGonagal's speech had been brief , but had the desired effect of putting all in attendance at ease. She left the podium with an odd vacancy in her eyes as the sorting hat was called forth.

The ragged old wizard's hat was placed on its wooden stool, but this year it lay quiet, before starting in on its usual song of praising Hogwart's founders, or preaching for unity among magic folk. A stoic hush swept over the hall as the hat finally began to twitch. With a loud ripping sound it's fabric rent open in the shape of a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

**"_In all the years I've served this school,I've strived to give sound advice to you . _**

**_Many great wizards have graced these halls, and many others have shamed us all. _**

**_Gryffindor was kind and brave, and Slytherin a cunning knave. _**

**_Hufflepuff 's work was honest and true, Ravenclaw's wisdom was, at times, more dark than shrewd. _**

**_Dumbledore's brilliance was without peer. In Voldemort we learned to fear!_**

**_I've done my duty and sorted well, despite my warnings, a hero fell._**

**_On Christmas past a __fire __of legend lit the sky, though victory won, the price was high._**

**_If you had but listened, had heed my call; the one named Potter would still be with us all!_**

The hat went silent and seemed to slump over dejectedly. The headmistress's face was all but unreadable. Her eyes fixed painfully on the sorting hat where it lay. Madam Pomfrey on her right, was dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, sniffling softly. The hall was deathly quiet, except for the sounds of sniffles and an occasional sob.

Hermione Granger's face, at first sorrowful, became a mask of shock as she noticed the antics of Ginny Weasley , who now sat in the chair that should be rightfully be filled by the very person the sorting hat so eloquently lamented. Ron, ever at her side, was murmuring soft words of comfort and encouragement, though he too was having a difficult time of it as he glowered at his sister.

Ginny Weasley was oblivious to the shock and dismay of the students around her as she quietly dug into the remains of her pudding, occasionally giving a saucy wink toward Collin Creavey, who sat across from her, blushing deeply in obvious embarrassment.

Months passed and the weather gradually turned cold and rainy. Students had settled into a normal routine of constant study, growing anticipation of the beginning of the House Quidditch Cup, and an occasional weekend trip to Hogsmeade sprinkled in for good measure.

Ron had taken over the captaincy of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and resumed his role as keeper. Ginny and Colin Creavy had both resumed their previous roles as chasers, but the rest of the team consisted of new green recruits. Ron was having a terrible time of it trying to whip his new team into shape for the coming season. The truth be told, his heart just wasn't in it anymore without the services of his friend and Gryffindor star seeker.

It took a bit, but his mood had finally improved and his fervor for this beloved sport returned as the fortunes of his beloved , Chuddley Cannons had taken a dramatic change for the better from previous decades of dismal failure. The Cannons were off to a 3-0 start, their best effort in some thirty odd years. Ron excitedly bent the ear of anyone who would listen as he ticked off facts about Chudley's new team. He scowled as his sister passed him in the Gryffindor common room, making the snide remark of,

"The season's just beginning, there's still plenty of time for Chudley to totally blow it."

His scowl deepened further as she sauntered over to Collin Creavey an unabashedly hooked his arm in hers and guided him toward the portal from the common room.

Not for the first time he wondered if he and Hermione had made a mistake in the charm they had placed upon Ginny's memory. She hadn't just forgotten all memory of her once deep seeded feelings for Harry, but seemed, if anything, to constantly be seeking attention from any and all available males in the population at large, though Creavey appeared the front runner thus far.

He shuddered as he remembered their last argument regarding her forward behavior, having made the mistake of going so far as to comparing his sister to a 'common alley cat'. Ginny caught him off guard; her wand was in her hand in a split second. He barely raised a shield in time to prevent having suffered the ill effects of the infamous, _bat bogey hex. _She settled down after Hermione's timely intervention, or so he thought prior to having been struck from behind with an _arse clamping hex, after_ he'd let his guard down . Harry's memory notwithstanding, he had to admit that she was at least enjoying herself, if a bit too much.

Damn!, but his arse still ached when he rode his broom!

Headmistress McGonagal sighed as she reached for another paper from her 'to-do' basket. She mentally scolded herself for her recent distractibility. It wasn't like her to fall behind in her work; in fact, she prided herself on her work ethic and professionalism. She was having more and more difficulty keeping her mind on her tasks_. _

_Nearly three months had past and still no word from Harry_. A slight smile played at the edges of her lips. She may have promised to call him Alan Brandt, but in her mind and heart he would always be Harry Potter.

Her eyes strayed to the empty perch in front of her desk; _even Fawkes has left me in the lurch. _Dumbledore's phoenix had made a habit of spending less frequent time in her company since Harry had left Hogwarts. Not for the first time she considered the possibility that Fawkes had found a new home and kindred spirit in young Mr. Potter. She hoped it was so. Fawkes was a loyal companion and would provide Harry with both friendship and a second line of defense in times of trouble. Despite his promises, she knew in her heart that sooner or later Harry would find trouble or it would certainly find him. The young man's overly developed sense of protectiveness would win out and he would throw himself into a fray with reckless abandon.

_I swear he'd throw his life away defending a bowtruckle from a falling leaf, _she thought both worried and amused by the prospect_. _

_Damn it all, why doesn't the boy write me just a note for Merlin's sake!_

**Eastern Europe**

"Is all in readiness?"

"Yes, milord Morvis. We have found several giants still sympathetic to our cause. Our attack on the dragon camp in Romania is set to begin before the day of Christmas, as you specified."

The rising dark lord was pleased with this news. With his special gift in drawing dark creatures to do his bidding, he would soon have a new and powerful army at his disposal. Not only would the attack on the dragon camp free many allies in the form of dragons, but it would strike fear and terror into the wizarding world. His attack both marked the anniversary of Voldemort's demise and heralded the rise of a new Dark Lord to power.

Potter had been an over eager young fool to have let he and his former fellow Death Eaters off when he had had them at his mercy.

_God, but the boy's power had been incredible . Thankfully, Voldemort, had at least accomplished one of his goals; to rid the wizarding world of it's supposed champion, leaving the way open and unchallenged for a new power to emerge and wrest control. _He mused lecherously.

"Alert our men that we will begin our attack on R.I.D.E.R. at daybreak Christmas eve. I, myself, will lead our forces to victory."

His servant bowed low in acknowledgement and backed out of the room.

**Southern England**

Alan Brandt was enjoying a bit of a lie in this morning. Training had been brutal over the past week. Morning runs followed by afternoon workouts on broomstick, and still he found time for martial arts classes with Sanders several days a week. He had advanced in his martial arts skills to the point that Sanders was now instructing him in the use of weapons, beginning with the Katana, or more commonly known as, the Japanese sword.

Though worn out from his daily training activities, most evenings consisted of studies in the use of ancient _earth magic_. He had progressed in his knowledge and abilities over the past several months. At first, he had wondered why modern wizards had foregone the practice of _earth magic_, (first developed by the ancient druids), in favor of common wand use. As his theoretical knowledge improved, the answer to his ponderings was obvious. It was dangerous, very dangerous.

_Earth magic,_ was just that; the use of the magic of the world around you. Harry had been startled to learn that magic did not just solely exist within the soul of wizard folk, but in every living thing in the world around you. The practitioner of _earth magic, _would call upon, or channel, the energy of the magic that existed around him and utilize it for his own means. The dangers of such a practice were in that an _earth mage _could draw upon all the energy, or life force, that existed in his environment- all life force... even that of another wizard. Not only did this give the practitioner an incredible source of power, at the same time it could rob the life force of any living creature within the range of the mage's abilities. That range varied with the strength of the castor. The more powerful the mage, the greater the circumference of his or hers range of influence. Even more importantly: the greater the mage's ability, the better his control over the powers at his command. That is to say, only the strongest and most gifted of wizards could safely use _earth magic _without bringing unintentional harm by drawing too much energy from the life force available in their environment.

As his studies progressed, he had soon come to realize that wandless magic had no doubt been developed as a safer alternative to the use of _earth magic. _The ancient druids , ( having no doubt suffered many unintentional hardships, accidental and even intentional losses of life in the practice of their use of _earth magic_), must have taken it upon themselves to focus their abilities on only drawing from their own personal magical resources- their own life force.

The first logical step in that progression was undoubtedly- wandless magic. Over the years as wizards had become less attuned, even lazy in the focus and use of their magic, wands had been developed. _Wand magic,_ gave the practitioner a useful tool in focusing and drawing upon the core of their magical energy and projecting it from themselves. Wands were, for all intents and purposes, a crutch!

Harry had happened upon an ancient tome entitled, " _Earth Magic: The True Source". _The book hadfallen down between the shelves of several old dusty tombs that were rotting, long forgotten in the _restricted section _of the Hogwart's library. He had been searching late into the night for any information that could possibly remedy the horrific curse that Voldemort had levied upon him. That same curse continued to rage against his own life force in a battle that he had little doubt he would eventually lose and slip into oblivion. Such a fate was beyond unacceptable! He had willingly given up his life, his love, in the battle to defeat Voldemort. Giving up his immortality, however, was not a sacrifice he was willing to make without putting up one bloody hell of a fight first. _Earth Magic, _may not only offer his a means of defense and existence within the magic world, though he was doubtful that it would hold the key to his salvation in freeing him from Voldemort's final curse.

He knew in his heart that if he could but summon _Phoenix fire, _its vast source of love and light could undoubtedly burn the darkness of Voldemort's taint from his soul. Initially, he had tried, and tried desperately to raise the _fire ,_but couldn't so much as ignite a spark of the inferno that had raged within him, last Christmas morn. Soon after, (when he had recovered enough to leave the muggle hospital that had been responsible for altering his appearance), he had learned the reason he could no longer hope to awaken the Phoenix Fire that had once burned within him.

Harry had learned a terrible truth that fateful day in early May when, despite his better judgment, he had given into his longing for friend and family and had wandlessly apparated to Ottery St. Catchpole and made his way to the Burrow. He hadn't even made it through the gate to the property when movement from the orchard caught his attention; movement of the long red-haired variety.

He had made his way around the edge of the property hoping to surprise the object of his desires with his return, only to have him be surprised with the shock of his life. Ginny Wesley; the object of his hopes, his dreams, his only reason for having survived the final battle, was locked in a passionate kiss with Collin Creavey. It was then, in that horrific moment of realization, that he recalled Dumbledor's final words to him...

"For one who's love is so great that they may wield the Phoenix Fire , the price for such may be love itself. It is for this very reason that Phoenix Fire has been called both wondrous and terrible."

He had felt the ecstasy, the unimaginable bliss of the fire burning from the depths of his soul and now he had learned the terrible price that came from wielding such awesome power was... his very soul. He could no longer summon the _fire_ because there was nothing left for him to summon. His love had been torn from him. It was in that moment that he knew he had won the battle, but ultimately, he had lost the war. Harry Potter no longer existed, only the hollow existence of Alan Brandt was left to him. It wasn't much, but it was all he had left.

'Alan Brandt' had been Sirius's brain child. He knew that if Harry should somehow survive the war, then the press would be forever hounding him. It had been terrible when he was _'the boy who lived'_, how much worse would it have been if he ended up'_ the hero that conquered the dark lord'_. Thus with some reluctance on Harry's part, the alternate identity of Alan Brandt had been forged.

Fake identification had been established. Accounts had been discreetly deposited in the name of Alan Brandt. The funds had been removed from their own accounts in such small amounts and over an extended period of time so as to not draw unwanted attention to the withdrawals. Furthermore, the galleons were channeled through various muggle lending agencies before being deposited in muggle banks or converted back to wizard gold, to make the transfers even more untraceable.

Through a muggle realtor they had secured the purchase of the small cottage that he now called home, located in the south of England. It was a comfortable two bedroom cottage on some thirty acres of secluded fields and woodland. The bulk of his estate should have been divided as set forth in 'the last will and testament of Harry Potter '. Though Alan Brandt could not claim the wealth of the former Harry Potter, he could live a life of relative comfort within either the Muggle or Wizarding world. Secondly, though more importantly, he could exist without the anonymity of his former title.

Silently, for the thousandth time, he thanked Sirius for his brilliant foresight.

The circumstances were perhaps not what they had anticipated, but the discretion it afforded him was all they had hoped for and more.

As Harry continued his study of _Earth Magic, _he occasionally found his mind wandering back to his time at Hogwarts this past summer, despite the painful emotions it brought with it. Though Professor McGonagal had frequently pressured him to renew his ties with his friends and family, she had never so much as made the slightest remark toward seeking out and renewing his relationship with Ginny Weasley. At first, he had been grateful, thinking she was being sensitive to his feelings. After all, Minerva McGonagal was one of the only people outside of the Weasley's and of course, Hermione, that even knew Ginny and he were secretly in love, despite their pretence to be nothing more than a bitter former couple.

In the weeks that followed his return to Hogwarts, he had been startled to learn one night that McGonagal not only knew of the changes that had taken place in Ginny's heart ,where he was concerned, but that she had also known the reason for those changes. Harry had quietly entered the infirmary one night to try and nick a sleep aid, when he had overheard McGonagal arguing with Madam Pomfrey on whether or not to tell him of the changes that had taken place within his former surrogate family.

"_I'm telling you, Poppy, Harry has the right to know what's happened to Ginny Weasley, he more than anyone_.

He could feel his heart clench at the sound of Ginny's name, such was the rawness of his still tattered emotions where she was concerned, despite putting on his best front.

"_But, Minerva, what can you hope to accomplish other than to further torment the young man. Hasn't he suffered enough? Dear lord, when will it be enough?" _

McGonagal contemplated silently for a moment before continuing. _"No, he must be told_. _I won't make Albus's mistake and keep anything back from him. Look how that turned out? It damaged their relationship. Things were never quite the same between them after Sirius died. Albus always said it was his greatest regret, not having been completely candid with Harry right from the start. _

Pomfrey continued to plead her case. _"At least let's see if we can find a cure for the boy first. I mean... if he cannot be healed than what's the point? Telling him now would only have adverse consequences. It might rob him of his will to survive. How could we possibly tell the boy that Ginny Weasley's memories of him were forcibly removed? No, not just her memories but those of her emotions, her love for him was taken from her to ease her grief and protect her from herself .Then what? After he's digested that horrific bit of information are we then going to tell him the rest? Should we then tell his that his best friends did this? That it's __**irreversible!**__"_

McGonagal's lips pursed distastefully, but she was undaunted. _"Calm yourself, Poppy. You needn't make it sound as such a betrayal, after all, we all thought Harry was dead and Ginny(the poor dear), she was wasting away in her grief. Then when she tried to kill herself, and with Harry's own wand yet? If Ron hadn't stopped her, I shudder to think what would have happened. The Weasley's had barely recovered from losing Harry. Can you imagine them having to suffer the loss of Ginny on top of it? The healers had given up hope for her. The family was at their wit's end. Only Hermione Granger could have come up with such a brilliant plan, but even she,.. Gryffindor that she is lacked the courage to see it through. Can you imagine what must have gone through their heads that night? Having to decide on whether to take their daughter's, their sister's and friend's, most precious memories from he? All the Weasley men actually drew lots to see which among them was left with the dread task of stealing away their own sister's memories of her love for Harry Potter. In the end only Ron, Ron with Hermione at his side, had the courage to see it through. I don't know which of them actually preformed the charm that gave Ginny a clear conscious and a chance for a full life, free of her unrelenting grief. The others, though grateful, could not bring themselves to do the task. I'm told that Charlie Weasley had to be physically restrained from stopping them; such was his loyalty to their dead friend and his sister's memories of Harry. Part of me agrees with Charlie Weasley, but another part of me applauds them for their courage."_

Harry had fled the infirmary as quietly as possible. Near blinded by tears, he had stumbled his way to the Astronomy tower where he wept bitterly for hours till the first rays of dawn streaked the morning sky. He would have once found such a sunrise beautiful beyond words. It could have been the herald of a day filled with hope and promise of better things to come. It was instead, nothing more than the painful reminder of that which he could never hope to attain.

Part of him was indeed grateful that Ron and Hermione had spared Ginny her pain. Another, far bigger part, hated them with the bitter contempt that one held for a betrayer. He wasn't six months gone and they were already erasing his existence. _What if he was cured? What then? Ginny was lost to him, and for all time, if McGonagal was to be believed?_

"Damn you, Hermione!" he spat bitterly.

If there was one thing he could always count on, it was that Hermione Granger always did things perfectly. The filthy charm was undoubtedly permanent. Even if he could be cured, there was nothing for him to return to. Any association with his surrogate family would be nothing more than a painful reminder of the dream he once had that was Ginny.

A quiet, melodious chiming brought him to the present. " 'Lo, Fawkes." he called over his shoulder, knowing that Dumbledore's familiar had joined him for a visit.

"I suppose McGonagal's seething that I haven't contacted her yet?"

A trilling warble from the bird, affirmed his suspicions.

"You might as well make yourself at home Fawkes. I'm afraid this letter is going to take a bit of time to compose."

He sighed resolutely as he closed his book and reached for a quill and some parchment. "Well I suppose there's nothing for it; she was bound to find out sooner or later. Just to warn you Fawkes, I'm not sure how the headmistress is going to take the news that I'm currently playing seeker for the Chudley Cannons."


	12. Chapter 12: Unhappy Anniversary

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters**.

**Chapter Twelve:Unhappy Anniversary**

**Hogwarts**

Mud and water dripped from their sodden uniforms. Shivers of both cold and dread spread throughout the gathered team all save one. Gryffindor had lost its first Quidditch match of the season, by a final pathetic score of 150-140, in Slytherin's favor. Though the score was close, the numbers did not reflect the real reason they had lost their first game.

A strange and loathsome anger permeated Ron's thoughts as he contemplated the game, or that is to say the reason, or person, that was responsible for his team's failure. She sat before him, humming softly to herself, nonchalantly checking her nails. Ron scowled his displeasure briefly before addressing the rest of the waiting team.

"All right you lot, listen up. All in all not a bad effort all the way around, but we can and will do better! Dennis and Collin, that was some nice beater work out there today."

The Creavey brothers brightened up considerably at the praise.

Ron pasted a half smile on his face and continued. "Rogers, that was a decent showing as seeker. You're flying pretty well, we just need to work on your strength training and you'll do just fine. You're no Harry Potter, but then who is?"

"Thanks, skipper." His third year student, but, rookie seeker chimed in gratitude.

Ron's scowl returned as he turned his attention to this last distasteful, but well deserved and overdue task.

"Everyone's dismissed, except Ginny,... could you stay a moment, I'd like a word?"

The other players filed out in considerably better spirits than when they had entered the locker after the game. Ginny winked at some of her male teammates cheekily as they passed her on their way out, oblivious to the looks of trepidation they returned at seeing the darkening visage of their captain's displeasure, and for whom it was directed toward .

After the locker room door closed, she sauntered up to her brother, and quidditch captain, with a pretentious smirk on her face. Unbeknownst to her, it only served to increase her brother's growing anger.

"Yes, brother dear?" She drawled in a sickly sweet voice. "Did you want to wait till the others left before you complimented me? I understand you not wanting to show any hint of favoritism in front of the others."

Ron's face was hard. His voice had an icy edge to it. "You're off the team."

"**What?**"she exploded. "You're mental. I scored seven goals out there, or hadn't you noticed?"

"You could have scored seventy goals against that team. The Ginny I use to know would have mowed them down. The Ginny I grew up with was a player, a fighter, not this two bit strumpet that's posturing in front of me." Ron waved his hand disgustedly over her.

Ginny's face went white in a mask of shock, but, she quickly recovered and her eyes took on that blazing appearance that promised mayhem in the offing.

"What did you just call me?" she hissed.

"You heard me, **a strumpet**. You know someone who's more interested in flirting with boys than doing an honest day's work." he clarified impassively.

Ginny's hand flew into her robes and came out lightning quick with her wand at the ready. She froze when she found the tip of her brother's wand pointed right between her eyes. This was new territory for her. Only Harry Potter had ever been faster than Ginny on the draw, but he would never have hexed her. One of her brother's though, well… that was another matter?

Ron's skill and power had grown considerably during the time he and Hermione were off with Harry on their unknown quest, last year. He never told his family what they were doing, and she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know, especially just now. She gulped nervously, unsure of herself.

Ron's eyes were slits of blue steel, his face dark. "Drop it." He all but whispered.

Nerveless fingers released her wand as it clattered to the floor.

"There won't be any bat_ bogey hexes _from you, missy."

"Ron, I…"

"Shut it!" he commanded. "I've had enough of this shite, Ginny. I've had enough of you. I'm tired of finding you snogging a different boy every other day when I'm making my head boy rounds. Out of bounds, after curfew,… and out of order. I miss the sister that use to care about others, more than she cared about herself; which, by the way, is all you seem to do anymore. You haven't owled your own mother all semester. If you did you'd know she isn't doing very well. She isn't eating, Ginny. She cries at night. She cries for…"

"She cries for her precious Harry Potter." Ginny answered haughtily, cutting him off.

"I'm sick of everyone mooning over precious Harry Potter. All he ever did was jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. The worst of it was that he always dragged the rest of us along with him,.. or have you forgotten?" She sneered.

Ron's face heated as she continued to berate Harry.

"It's always, Harry this and Harry that. Well I, for one, am sick of hearing about St. Potter. Hell, he'd still be alive and fumbling about if he hadn't run off and gotten himself killed, instead of someone else dying, for a change. Why, he'd..."

**Smack! **Ron's hand slapped across her cheek. His face was the epitome of furious outrage. Ginny's cheek was already a dark shade of pink where his hand connected.

"You hit me!" she confirmed in a shocked voice, her hand holding her burning cheek. Her eyes were either beginning to water, or she was crying. Ron didn't care which.

"You're lucky I didn't knock your damn teeth out." he growled.

"I'm telling mum." She smirked, playing her last trump card.

Ron called her bluff. "Tell her. Tell her, Ginny. Tell her how you've been neglecting your studies. Tell her how you've been pranking your professors. Tell her how you've been out snogging boys at all hours of the night. Tell her how you don't even care enough to put any effort into playing for Gryffindor anymore. Tell her how it got so bad that your own brother was forced to kick you off the team, rather than take the rest of us down with you."

Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously as he continued still further. "When you get done telling mum all that, then tell her how you stood here and insulted Harry's memory."

Ron through away his wand and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, shaking her violently. Her eyes were glazed in fear, weeping openly now.

"Damn you, Ginny." he rasped between clenched teeth. "What the hell's the matter with you? Harry was our friend, our family. He died for you, er, I mean us. All of us! You've got some brass to stand her and stomp on his memory like he was some useless flubber worm, not even worth scraping off the bottom of your shoe once you've squashed it."

He shook her a last time before lowering her to the floor, but maintaining his hold on her shoulders. He lowered his voice to a more subtle, almost cruel edge.

"Where's your friend, Ginny,… your best friend, Hermione?" he goaded her, smiling cruelly.

"I.. I..?"she stammered before he cut her off sharply and went for the kill.

"You remember Hermione don't you? Pretty girl; chestnut hair, willowy figure? Very intelligent girl, except maybe when it comes to picking her friends, according to you." he sneered disdainfully."Have you so much as said a word in passing to your best friend this past week? **Have you ?**... If you had, you'd know that she's not coming to the Burrow for Christmas. Do you know why? Do you even care?"

"Wh-What are you talking about? Ginny snuffled.

"I'm talking about your best friend, though why she is, I'm sure I don't know. She's staying here for the holidays and I'm staying with her."

"W-Why" Ginny choked out beginning to cry again.

" Because Christmas isn't Christmas any more, not for us. Christmas is now an anniversary for us. It's the day that our best friend was killed. He was killed saving the rest of our sorry arses." he chuckled dryly though his face held no hint of humor.

"Do you know what your best friend wants for Christmas this year? Do you know what she begged me to do for her?"

Ginny's eyes were as big as saucers as she searched his face for some hint of clue. Her brother's beautiful blue eyes were vacant. Pain etched his features. He was lost in some awful memory, forgetting even that he still held his sister clenched by the shoulders.

Ginny was afraid to ask, but she had to know, she needed to know. "Wh-What does she want, Ron?"

He answered her in a hollow wooden voice. "She wants me to take her to visit Harry's grave."

His voice strained as he choked back his sobs. "Sh..she wants me to take her there so t-that she can tell him that w-we love him. That we remember and m-miss him. Oh… God…" Ron released his hold on his sister, burying his face in his hands as racking sobs consumed him.

Ginny's heart clenched with pain. She reached out for him, trying to pull her brother into her arms.

Ron pushed her hands away and rounded on her in renewed fury. "Don't touch me." he hissed. " don't need , nor want, your sympathy anymore, Gin. We, Hermione and I, have given up on you a long time ago. You've just been too preoccupied with your own selfish indulgences to notice. I could forgive you for anything, at least that's what I always thought, Gin. I was wrong though. I can't forgive you for this though. I can't forgive you for neglecting your best friend when she's needed you so desperately. I never, not in a million years would have ever thought I'd say this, let alone actually feel it, but... I'm ashamed of you, Ginny. I'm ashamed to call you my sister."

Ginny backed away from him with horror filled eyes. Her hands covered her mouth, muffling the scream of anguish that ripped from her throat. His words hurt her more than any hundred slaps in the face could have hoped to accomplish. She burst into tears, wailing as she fled the locker room, nearly trampling Hermione as she came into the doorway.

"Gi-Ginny... what is it, what's wrong?" Hermione called out.

Ginny just pushed past her, sobbing hysterically as she fled toward the distant castle.

"Ron?" Hermione asked in alarm entering the locker. "Ron, why's Ginny so upset? What did you say to her?"

Ron slumped down unto the one of the locker's wooden benches and sighed heavily. "Nothing I'm ashamed of and nothing that wasn't long overdue." was all he answered.

McGonagal paced her office huffing indignantly as she re-read his letter for the third time. _It wasn't bad enough that Gryffindor lost the quidditch match against Sytherin_. She didn't choose any favorites amongst the school, of course. Now, she had this cute bit of fluff to warm her heart for the holidays.

_Not a Christmas card, nooo! Nooo,... Harry bloody Potter, (and I do mean Potter, not that foolishness about Alan Brandt), sends me this ridiculous note telling me that he's what did he call it. _

She re-read the ending of his note_. Ah, yes,... he's ' hiding in plain sight', by playing seeker for the bloody Chudley Cannons!"_

"He couldn't even have the decency to play for someone more worthy of the effort, like Puddlemere!" she seethed out loud. "God help us, but it doesn't end there. Now he's learning _Earth Magic!_"

She slumped wearily into her chair having finished venting her rage to the heavens. _Earth Magic of all things. He didn't come right out and say it, but it was obvious if one read between the lines. Is there anything more dangerous than an elemental wizard? _

She snorted an ironic chuckle, "I'd like to see him keep _elemental magic_ a secret from the rest of the wizarding world? Still, if there's one person alive that could pull it off...?"

McGonagal contemplated further. _Not surprising really? The magical world has left him little choice. Actually, it's the only choice, if he's going to survive in the magical world. Eventually he'll have to defend himself. The boy can't help it really, not with that 'hero complex' he carries on his shoulders. Such incredible power though,… if it were anyone else I'd be more terrified than if a dozen Voldemorts were running loose. Dear Albus… _She prayed silently. _Please watch over that boy._

**Romania**

Charlie Weasley awoke bleary eyed from what had been a promising dream involving a pair of overzealous medi-witches. He was just about to roll over and try to recapture his dreams, as he was technically 'off duty'. He would be traveling to the Burrow today to join his family for Christmas Eve festivities.

"Thoom!" A lod crack split the morning air.

_Thunder_? He thought skeptically. _Strange at this time of year, but not uncommon as the heat from so many dragons in close proximately caused a lot of meteorological disturbances_. Charlie dismissed the thunder booms as odd, but not unheard of, that is until... the screaming started.

Charlie stumbled from his quarters, struggling to pull on his well worn pair of dragon-hide boots. The scene that stretched out across the dragon camp was one of utter chaos. Several of his friends and comrades were struggling to rein in their perspective dragons to keep them from bolting in blind panic. **Giants! **

At least a dozen ferocious specimens of Mountain Giants had descended upon the camp and were wreaking havoc amongst the dragon pens. They weren't trying to kill and eat the dragons as he would have assumed. They appeared to be trying to kidnap the dragons. Several giants were dragging away a family of Welch Greens in chains, whilst other giants fought off what wizards were still left able to fight back. Several of the camp's buildings were in ruins. Some reduced to piles of rubble, no doubt the result of the giant's great war clubs. Other buildings were ablaze as if they were victims of..._dragon fire?_

Nearly too late he realized that the giants were not the only force being unleashed upon the dragon camp. He dived for cover just in time, as a flight of dragons rained fire down from above, setting his living quarters aflame with a loud- **whoosh! **

He twisted around, from behind the boulder he'd used for cover, just in time to see a half dozen scarlet robed wizards with black cloth masks, riding on the backs of newly captured and obviously indiscriminate-dragons.

Charlie put two fingers between his teeth a blew a loud whistle. Moments later a deafening roar sounded overhead as a shadow covered the area in which he stood. A loud " **Thwump**", heralded the arrival of his favorite companion.

Charlie cast a grimace at the turncoat dragons and their riders, as they circled over head, making ready for another strafing run on the smoldering dragon camp.

He turned and asked his enormous blue tinged and scaled friend; "Norbert 'ol boy, do ya fancy a bit of a scrap this fine Christmas morning?"

A fierce growl rumbled from the throat of the Norwegian Ridgeback as he lowered his wing so that Charlie could mount his scaled back.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Moments later, Norbert arched his back and with a mighty downward thrust of his wings, both dragon and wizard rider were thrust into the air. They kept low to the ground, spiraling away from their attackers until they were able to gain more altitude and have a chance at mounting a counter attack without giving away a height advantage to their assailants. Their attackers already had the tactical advantage of the element of surprise, along with greater numbers and obvious planning. Charlie did not intend to give them the advantage of the high ground, or altitude, as it were.

Having gained even higher altitude than their attackers, Charlie spurred Norbert back toward the Dragon camp to get the measure of things?

What he saw turned his blood cold.

The camp itself was a smoking ruin, totally obliterated. The bodies of both wizard handlers and dragons were strewn across the landscape. Those dragons that had resisted appeared to have been torn limb from limb by the merciless giants. One particularly brutish pair was currently in the process of ripping the wings off of a young Welch Green female. Her shrieks of pain and rage echoed across the valley.

Charlie could feel the rumbling of Norbert's growl as they witnessed the grim spectacle below. A few of the camp's handlers had managed to get air borne on their scaled counterparts and were managing the semblance of a counter attack. Though they were hopelessly out numbered, they at least were providing a diversion that left the giants without aerial support.

The dragoness was finished, now lying in bloody tatters at the feet of her ruthless tormenters. One of the bastards had shorn off one of the dragoness's limbs and was sating his appetite as she watched helplessly in the throes of death.

Charlie thumped Norbert on the neck to get his attention. "Norbert!" he howled over the wind. "Let's give those pair 'o swine a hot meal."

Norbert bobbed his head in agreement and gave Charlie a moment to secure his feet into his stirrups and wrap the reins around his hand before they made their attack run.

"I'm ready. Let 'er go!" Charlie shouted.

Norbert roared as he folded his wings against his body like a giant falcon , and dived toward the unsuspecting giants below. Charlie leaned way back in his saddle trying to lessen the wind resistance against his body. He whooped in sheer joy as their speed accelerated from break neck to insane! This was to a Wrongski feint, what a Wrongski feint was by comparison to a child jumping into a pile of leaves. They plummeted toward the ground and would be on top of the giants in milliseconds.

"Wait for it. Wait for it." Charlie called.

Norbert hissed his answer in what Charlie recognized as the dragon's version of a 'complaining reminder', that he knew what he was doing. Charlie allowed himself a brief snicker before he steeled himself for what was to come next.

"Now!" he shouted.

Norbert pulled out of the dive, when he was no more than twenty meters in the air ,and careened across the valley floor toward the rear of the unsuspecting pair of giants. When they were within fifty feet, one of the brutes must have heard the crackle from the air disruption and turned to see Charlie and Norbert bearing down upon them.

"Huh?" he bellowed stupidly. His companion began to turn in alarm.

"Roast 'em! " Charlie howled

Norbert shrieked his rage as he poured dragon fire down into the faces of the witless brutes.

The giant's howls of pain soon became a torrent of mewling misery.

As they sped by overhead, Charlie twisted in his saddle to check the damage. He was rewarded with the sight of the two giants imploding in amongst themselves as they were quickly reduced to a smoldering ruin of flesh.

"Good on you, Norbert 'ol boy." he calledappreciatively, patting his mount's neck.

A rumbling growl of satisfaction answered him.

Charlie pointed out a fat, oafish specimen of a giant that was attempting to drag a Bulgarian Brown into a copse of trees at the west edge of the encampment. Norbert was already turning his body in their direction, obviously thinking the same thing.

The Brown was putting up a valiant struggle, but was unable to use its fire as it appeared to be chained and muzzled. Charlie was pleased to see that the dragon had not given up his freedom easily, as the corpses of two fallen giants lying in its wake gave merciless testimony toward it's unwillingness to succumb. The Brown was tiring and was being overwhelmed by the fat giant's immense strength.

They would have to time this just right or they'd never clear the tree line behind the struggling pair before the giant made it to the safety afforded by the western forest.

Charlie gave the skies a quick scan and was pleased to see that the Camp's faithful had managed to dispatch a trio of dragons and wizard riders. Two were splayed across the ground in grisly fashion and the final pair was plummeting from the sky, trailing smoke all the way down before crashing into Black Lake, which bordered the camp. The lake provided a ready water supply and food source for the dragons as it was teeming with many species of large fish.

A shout of " Hoo- raah!", drifted down from above, as the camp defender's celebrated the hard won, if minor victory, just before another battle began in earnest.

"Norbert, rake that giant before banking left along the tree line." Charlie shouted instructions.

Norbert snorted his understanding and began to roll to his side to allow him greater maneuverability. "On my mark!" Charlie called. "Three...Two...One... Now!"

The startled giant turned just as Norbert roared and extended his talons. The dragon tore great rents in the flesh of the fat giant's huge belly up thru his right shoulder.

Dragging his claws through the giant's flesh not only wounded the great brute , but afforded Norbert the much needed advantage of reducing his speed and anchoring his turn so that he could direct his path of flight away from the impending woods. Blood and gore spewed from the giant's wound, but he was far from finished. Ignoring his wound, the giant hefted his wooden club at Norbert and Charlie, as they sped past. The great missile sped past Charlie's ear, missing him by a hand breadth.

Charlie leaned over his saddle and took aim under Norbert's tail. He fired an _evicerus hex _that hit the giant in his wound and burrowed deeply into the brute's innards. Normally, even the most powerful hexes would just bounce harmlessly off of a giant's thickened hide, but once their armored skin was opened, they were as vulnerable as anyone.

The giant screamed his agony as the _evicerous hex _did its work, knifing through his organs and entrails. The giant gave a last moan of despair before falling flat on its face-dead!

The captive Bulgarian Brown wasted no time freeing itself from its bonds. It's razor sharp talons made short work of the ropes and chains that once held it . Too tired and spent, or just too badly shaken to take to the air, the Brown made for the safety of water and dived beneath the icy waves of Black Lake.Charlie could not help but think the Brown showed more sense than the rest of the camp's meager defenders.

Charlie and Norbert had just regained some altitude when the last of the camp's defenders fell.

Old Hank Draven was riding aboard, "Iron Jaw", a Finish Long Snout. They were both the eldest of the camp and each had a gruff, surly demeanor. To be honest, no one else could stand the two of them, but they found welcome company in each other and had formed a lasting friendship over the decades.

The pair were locked in a death grip with one of the scarlet robed wizards and a betraying Welch Green. The Welch's rider appeared to be trying to escape, as the pair plummeted to the unforgiving rock strewn valley floor. The Scarlet rider's leg was tangled in his mount's harness and the Green and Finish dragons were both locked in a death match that neither pair of dragons and riders could hope to survive. Talons raked and fangs tore as each dragon was intent upon the utter destruction of its counterpart. Their wizard riders were helpless to do anything save ride to their impending doom as one could not apparate within the confining wards of the reserve.

"They would have wanted it this way." Charlie called to Norbert. "They would have wanted to go out in battle- together."

Norbert snorted his agreement.

A few scattered dragons, some with the remnants of the camps handlers as riders, had made it to the air and were making a break for the distant mountain passes. If the dragons could make it safely past the wards, then their wizard riders could apparate away to safety. The dragons themselves could hide away within the mountains deep caves and passages till the danger passed.

Salvaging the Reserve was a lost cause. Fighting back was a futile effort. There were simply too many enemies, and the camps defenders and those dragons still loyal were simply too few. The surprise attack on the camp had been well planned and executed.

Charlie could not help but wonder about the timing of the attack, as it were not only Christmas eve, but the anniversary of Voldemort's demise at Harry's hands. He fought down a wave of grief at his friend's passing; this was not the time or place to mourn.

The camps defenders would never make the safety of the mountains. Their mounts were too tired from the battle and some dozen or more Scarlet robed figures were in hot pursuit, most mounted on the treacherous Welch Greens-all except one.

A dark robed figure had emerged and was leading the camp's assailant's, mounted aboard a Hungarian Horntail that Charlie easily recognized.

"Hey, Norbert?" he called. "Isn't that the dragon that gave Harry Potter all that trouble during the first task of the Tri- Wizard's tournament?"

He knew well it was the same dragon, just as he knew that Norbert had little love for the creature. Norbert was a fiercely loyal dragon and he had always counted Harry amongst his friends after he and his friends risked expulsion to get Norbert to safety.

Norbert snarled viciously in recognition.

Charlie knew the plan he was considering left them both, little-to-no-chance of survival. They could easily turn south whilst the remains of the camp drew their attackers away, but that would mean certain doom for the others when their attackers caught up with them. He and Norbert were well positioned to intervene. Their two lives could buy the lives of several of their friends. For Charlie the decision was an easy one, but Norbert had the right to decide for himself.

"Should we help them, or make a run for it?"

Norbert's long neck arced around till the dragon's eyes were centimeters from Charlie's own, as the dragon's body continued to fly blindly forward. He fixed Charlie with such a look of utter disdain that Charlie couldn't help but snort a laugh as he apologized.

"Ha-Ha-Ha,.. I'm sorry old friend. I just wanted to make sure we were of the same mind."

Norbert bared his fangs in what for a dragon was the closest thing they could come to a smile, most unknowing wizards would have wet themselves if a dragon looked at them that way.

The 'smile' quickly disappeared and was replaced by the dragon's equivalence of an indignant look, when Charlie asked.

"They've got quite a head start. Do you think you can catch them?" Charlie was only bantering with Norbert as both of them knew that only a Chinese Fireball could match a Norwegian Ridgeback's speed, but Norbert was very fast, even amongst Ridgebacks.

Norbert's neck snapped back and his head and tail aligned with his body to lessen his wind resistance. He beat his wings with long, smooth, powerful strokes and the two of them shot forward like a missile. They would catch the rear grouping of the enemy within moments.

"Stay in their blind spot. When I give the word, pitch right into a 'Rake and Roll'!"

Norbert snorted irritably as if to say, "No- duh!"

Charlie smirked as he gauged the distance to the first of their intended targets. Charlie secured his feet and wrapped Norbert's reins around his wrist, clutching his wand in his teeth. Three... Two... One...

"Now!" he bellowed.

Norbert rolled over and under the rear most dragon, raking it's underbelly, eviscerating the Welch Green ,as he passed below. Once past, Norbert rolled back upright and Charlie shot a _silencio charm , _that covered the pair's screams as they plummeted from the skies. The Welch Green's rider wind milled his arms and legs in a feeble attempt at flight, while the Green trailed gore, plummeting downward.

Charlie patted Norbert's back in praise and proclaimed," Excellent! Let's see if it works again?"

Norbert bobbed his head in agreement as he shot forward and they performed the same maneuver on the next two dragons and their riders to good effect.

Unfortunately, the next of their enemies was riding alongside a partner, rendering this tactic useless.

"Norbert, _tail-hook_ the right and I'll take the left." Charlie suggested.

Norbert shot forward between the pair and slashed his tail into the dragon and rider on his right. The rider on the right side was knocked from his saddle and was sent screaming through the air. Norbert's razor sharp tail spikes tore out the throat of the Green, sending it spinning downward as it tore desperately at it's already ruined throat.

While Norbert dealt with the pair to his right, Charlie dealt with the duo to their immediate left. Charlie shot a powerful _cutting hex_ at the scarlet robbed wizard that took the wizard's wand arm off at the elbow. He followed with a _sanguineous rapidum curse, _that would cause the wizard to bleed out in seconds rather than minutes.

Whilst the dying wizard clutched desperately at his gushing stump, his mount reared its head to belch dragon fire at Charlie.

As the dragon opened its giant maw to spew flame, Charlie hit it in the mouth with an _impedimenta jinx. _The resulting backlash caused the dragon's head to explode from the pressure and both it and it's now dead rider fell unceremoniously from the sky.

The element of surprise was now lost as the remaining five pairs of dragons and their riders had been alerted by the skirmish behind and had split off from their pursuit of the camp's survivors. The five pairs turned to engage Charlie and Norbert.

" Uh- oh!" Charlie understated worriedly.

He quickly pulled down and left on Norbert's reins, wheeling his mount in a downward arc. Flames shot past his right side- a bit too close.

"Serpentine!" He shouted in near panic.

Norbert responded by zigzagging downward, conserving his now waning strength by letting his momentum and gravity due the work. A barrage of hex lights and flame gouts flew past but none were relatively close as their pursuers were unable to get a bead on the descending pair. Charlie chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. The four Greens were in hard pursuit and were closing. The Black robed leader on the Horntail was hanging back about a hundred meters or so. _Cowardly git! _

"Do you have enough left to give me an inside loop with a roll after?" he called to his tiring friend.

Norbert huffed indignantly in confirmation, but Charlie knew his friend would be hard pressed to complete the maneuverwith his remaining strength rapidly dwindling.

Charlie gave a quick look over his shoulder, _another few seconds and they would be on top of us._

"Now!"

Norbert pitched his wings upward and dropped his tail. As they shot upwards and back, he began to beat his wings furiously to gain altitude. They turned over in a perfect inside loop and their pursuers flew by beneath them, but not before Charlie sent a barrage of _stunners _and _cutting hexes _down upon them, managing to unseat two of the riders that fell to certain deaths, screaming for mercy.

Judging the timing was right, Charlie shouted.

"Roll and Rake!"

With a deafening roar, Norbert struggled to comply. He made the roll but was unable to rake the startled Hungarian with his claws before they blew past. Charlie had managed to get off an _incendio hex _that set the black robed leader on fire. He beat madly at his flaming robes and his mount fell into a downward spiral as the wizard struggled to both put out the flames and control his enraged mount.

Charlie and Norbert had gained a few thousand precious feet of altitude which gave them a tactical advantage and a temporary respite. It would take their assailants several minutes to be able to regain altitude so that they could re-engage he and Norbert.

Charlie turned hopeless eyes to the distant mountain range, the rest of their friends had reached the safety it afforded, but he and Norbert could not hope to do the same - together. Norbert was nearly spent, his strength beginning to fade. Though faster than the Green's or the Horntail, Norwegian Ridgebacks did not have the stamina of the latter. Norbert could never hope to make the safety of the mountains; not with carrying Charlie on his back.

"Norbert, could you make it to the mountains without my added weight?" Charlie called over the wind that whistled by as they drifted on the thermals rising from the valley below.

Norbert's back stiffened as Charlie's meaning sunk in. He twisted his long neck around and fixed Charlie with a baleful glare; he was not amused, nor was he touched by the wizard's offer to sacrifice himself.

"Alright- alright." Charlie held his hands up placating. "I feel the same way about it. Still, I wouldn't hold it against you if you dumped me and made a run for it?"

Norbert snorted a gout of black fume to accentuate his disapproval.

Charlie grinned at him and nodded. "Together then." He agreed. "Have you got enough left for the Horntail?"

Norbert bared his wickedly sharp fangs and growled low in his throat.

"Good. I'd like another shot at that dark robed tosser, myself. If were gonna go, let's go out fighting. Besides, I figure we both owe one to Harry Potter."

Norbert rumbled his agreement and turned his attention back to his flight path.

Charlie decided it was time to get acquainted.

"Ho there! " He called down to the dark robed wizard and his remaining scarlet robed flunkies. The dark wizard had succeeded in putting out the flames of his robes and regained control of his mount just as Charlie's call distracted him.

"What-Who..?" The dark figure called out as he twisted his head to and fro searching for the source of the hail.

"Not the brightest of blokes, eh? Up here you, git!"

The dark wizard's gaze shot skyward and he fixed Charlie with a look of utter loathing. "You dared to attack me, you swine!" he growled.

"Sorry about the robes. I'm afraid they got in the way. I was trying to barbecue you, but it seems your garments suffered the worst of it. It wasn't your color any way. I would think something in **yellow**, would be more your style." Charlie goaded and continued.

"Why don't you give me the name of the **witch's** clothing store where you and your lackeys bought their garments and I'll order you a new set."

"You dare insult me, Alexander Morvis, Dark Lord of the North and the rightful successor to Voldemort? I'll see you die a thousand death's for daring to defy me."

"Morvis?" Charlie echoed in surprise.

"Ah, so you've heard of me. Now you see for yourself that the stories are true. I am the master of all dark creatures. Your dragon friends are now my willing slaves. Soon I will command an army of dark creatures and all the world will tremble before my might."

"Morvis, eh?" Charlie scratched his chin as if considering his words.

Norbert was already spiraling downward as Morvis and his goons steadily worked their way up.

"Yeah, I've heard of you." Charlie called out. "But, I heard that you had more of an, er, affection for farm animals, sheep in particular."

Charlie smiled broadly as Morvis raged below in response to his latest insult.

The dark wizard spat orders at his lackeys to "Kill the contemptible cur!"

The scarlet robed wizards gained altitude rapidly, their mounts wings beat furiously as they attempted to reach Charlie and Norbert, still some two to three hundred feet above. Morvis held back, circling below- as expected.

Charlie patted Norbert's flank, affectionately, probably for the last time. "Norbert... Dive!"

**Hogwarts-Present Time **

"Passes for holiday travel are currently suspended until further notice. All students will remain in their respective dormitories. The Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as all prefects report to my office immediately."

Headmistress McGonagal paced anxiously in her office as she waited for her student leaders to arrive. Her thoughts were beyond irate. _Only a year, one bloody damn year! One brief year of peace and already another damn Dark Lord wannabe is making trouble in the world by attacking_ _the Romanian International Dragon Educational Reserve!_

R.I.D.E.R., as it was called was due in part to the fact that many dragon handlers befriended and had learned to ride the dragons, like the wizards of the ancient world had done in battle.

As angry as she was regarding the attack, she was even more livid with herself for following her first impulse- contacting Harry Potter!

_I'm no better than the rest of them, _she chided herself._ The first sign of trouble and all I could think to do was run to Harry for help. Damn it all, why did I write that letter, all but begging him to intervene? What could he do?_

_Gods above! What would he do? _She thought in alarm.

Six months was hardly a lot of time to learn a new branch of magic, but this was Harry Potter, after all. When the boy set his mind to a task, there was nothing he couldn't accomplish, nothing.

McGonagal turned to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that adorned her office wall. Thankfully, he was snoozing in the picture and she would get a respite before receiving the tongue lashing that was sure to come as a result of her foolish actions.

"Forgive me old friend," She whispered. "I've just loosed an elemental mage on the world."

A welcome knock on her door distracted her from her fearful contemplation.

"You wanted to see us, headmistress?" A familiar voice inquired.

"Yes, thank you Miss Granger. Have the others come in and take a seat."

Under Hermione's direction the rest of the prefects and the Head Boy filed in and took a seat in front of Headmistress McGonagal's desk. It was a tight squeeze, but everyone fit in the circular office that was unchanged in decor from its previous occupant other than a few sparse showinds of Clan McGonagal tartan. This would always be Albus Dumbledore's office as far as Minerva McGonagal was concerned.

"Thank you all for your timely response." She began lightly before her tone turned grim.

"I regret to inform you that all travel for the holidays is currently suspended due to the current crisis. There's been an attack, one I'm afraid is still proceeding at the Romanian Dragon Reserve that many of you know as R.I.D.E.R."

Gasps and startled looks from the students answered her words. McGonagal ignored them, her attention riveted on one in particular. Ronald Weasley's face paled when McGonagal delivered the news. Unlike the Ron of old, this Ronald Weasley's features grew stern, resolute. No longer was he a boy that needed reassuring. He had grown into a man; a wizard that faced persevered over tragedies that would break lesser men. She was proud of him. He and Miss Granger would herald a new generation of greater, more capable wizards than their predecessors.

McGonagal cleared her throat and the assemblage quieted in anticipation. "I'm afraid that all holiday travel is currently suspended. Would you all please return to your respective dormitories and keep the other, younger students calm and occupied. I shall be in touch as soon as the current crisis is resolved. You are dismissed. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley,... could you both remain a moment please?"

She waited patiently for the other students to depart her office. Once the others were gone and the door was shut, she began without preamble. "In answer to your unspoken question, Mr. Weasley,no your brother Charles had not returned home by the time of the attack."

Ron's face paled further, but he just nodded his head in acknowledgment.

Hermione, however, was hungry for more information- as always. "Is there any other information professor? Do the authorities know who's behind the attack? Has anyone been injured? Why the Dragon Reserve? Does anyone…?"

McGonagal held up her hand to stifle the flow. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she did so.

"Sorry, professor." Hermione conceded, blushing lightly.

"That's quite alright, Miss Granger. An inquisitive mind is never a bad thing, but, one must listen if one is to learn. Now then, what information I've been privy to is sketchy at best. It appears the attack began at dawn. The Romanian Ministry sent out an emergency call for help shortly thereafter. Britain's reserve auror's were dispatched, but it appears the international floo system is currently down as all the holiday travel as bogged down the lines."

"They could apparate, couldn't they? I mean, it's a long way, but surely some of the wizards and witch's there could manage it? Ron offered hopefully.

McGonagal shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not. There are very few wizards in the world that could travel that distance in even two, let alone one leap. Even if they could apparate that distance in several tries, I'm afraid that they would be far too drained, both physically and magically, to be of much use in defending the camp once they arrived."

Ron just nodded his head in glum acceptance as Hermione took his hand in comfort. He smiled gratefully at the gesture.

"I am sorry." McGonagal sympathized. "Do take heart though. Your brother Charles is a most capable wizard and he is amongst friends there. I should be very much surprised if he isn't among the survivors of this cowardly attack."

Ron smiled gratefully at her attempt to reassure him.

Hermione, ever the inquisitive one, pondered the attack. "I suppose the attackers are targeting the dragons?"

"Indeed." McGonagal agreed. "They would make a powerful weapon if they could be controlled."

"Do you think it could be Alexander Morvis, that's behind the attack? He and a few other Death Eaters, were reported to be still at large. I believe he has some special abilities when it comes to communicating with and manipulating dark creatures?"Hermione hypothesized.

"Hmm, yes." McGonagal tapped her forefinger to her chin. " I was contemplating the same thing."

"It's a pity that Harry couldn't have finished him off with the rest of that scum." Ron spat angrily.

"Oh, Ron..." Hermione scolded. "I'm sure that Harry did the best he could."

"I know he, that is, I'm sure he did." McGonagal quickly corrected herself, but not before Hermione caught the slip and just arched an eyebrow in puzzled surprise.

**Southern England-Present Time**

Harry re-read the note from McGongal for the second time. _She can't be serious?_

He was totally shocked, to say the least. _She tells me to keep a low profile, than later expects me to jump right in and play the hero!_

He crumpled up the note angrily, only to moments later- flatten it back out and read it again.

_My dear, Mr. Brandt. _

_Whilst I do apologize for disturbing you during the holiday season, I thought you would wish to be informed of the plight regarding a former seeker, not of the caliber of yourself, but a comrade in arms as it were. I am referring to one Charles Weasley, a former seeker and Quidditch Cup Champion from our own Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I am currently Headmistress._

_Mr. Weasley currently resides at the Romanian International Dragon Education Reserve which is currently under attack by a group of dark wizards. Attempts to rescue those afflicted at the reserved have bogged down and I fear that relief will come- too late. I know it is presumptuous on my part, but as you are reported to be a great humanitarian and no doubt have a deep and abiding love for your fellow quidditch players, I thought you would like to do all in your __power__ to assist Mr. Weasley's family in this time of despair. _

_Yours in friendship: With the deepest of wishes that you have a blessed holiday season, just as I'm sure you would wish for the entire Weasley family._

_Minerva McGonagal_

_Headmistress_

_Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

_P.S. Would it have hurt you to send a Christmas card to your biggest fan?_

_P.S.S. Do dress warmly; it's quite chilly in Romania this time of year. _

"Fine!" Harry bit out through gritted teeth, scowling at McGonagal's letter. He grabbed a piece of parchment and furiously wrote out a response, which he just as quickly crumpled and discarded. He paused a moment to rein in his initial anger before continuing with a mischievous smile. He wrote out a second note which he put more thought, not to mention better language, in to the composition thereof. After a few anxious pauses, he finished the note and tied it to Fawkes's waiting leg. Apparently the bird had correctly assumed he would want to reply to McGonagal's message and had waited patiently for him to finish the task. With a burst of fire, Fawkes disappeared.

Harry donned his thick woolen, brown cloak. It would provide him with sufficient warmth, and more importantly; it had a deep hood that would hide his features from casual observation. He took a last look about his sparse cottage, fearing it would be the last time he would ever see his peaceful refuge again. His eyes fell on the well used string guitar propped in a corner of the living room. It had been one of Sirius's cherished possessions, one that he was currently attempting to master during the lonely hours of his non-quidditch evenings. He stepped out into the chilly Christmas Eve weather and with a blazing flash of silent lightning- he was gone.

The sound of thunder followed his travels.


	13. Chapter 13:Christmas is a Time of Peace?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters****.**

**Chapter Thirteen: Christmas is a Time of Peace?**

**Boom! **A peel of thunder split the clear wintry sky.

_No not thunder_, Charlie worried, _Giants! The giants must have returned. Ah well, what does it matter. I'm dead already. Poor Norbert's gone, (_having finally succumbed to his terrible wounds only moments before_). Merlin, but he had been magnificent! _

Charlie's mind drifted back to what seemed hours, but was probably only minutes before.

"Norbert, dive!" he had commanded. Norbert had lowered his head and shot like a missile through the remnants of their attackers.

Seeing his enemy plummeting toward him, Morvis had panicked and mistakenly pulled up on his reins, causing the Horntail to 'rear up' in mid air which had the desired effect of exposing the dragon's soft underbelly.

Norbert extended his talons and embedded himself in the horntail's innards. Claws slashed and tore, cruel fangs rent at scaled throats. The dragons were locked in a death match that neither could hope to survive. Norbert had the advantage, but he was tiring quickly. Though the Horntail was terribly wounded, he was the stronger, more vicious of the two. The Horntail tore at Norbert's exposed flanks and managed to tear a leathern wing from his body. Norbert shrieked in horrific pain, but continued to tear away at the Horntail's exposed entrails. All the while, the dragons and their riders plummeted toward the rapidly approaching ground whose impact would put the final end to their struggles.

Charlie cheered Norbert on as he fired a volley of curses at the Horntail's dark rider. The majority of Charlie's _hexes_ hit the Horntail's scaled hide and bounced harmlessly away. Others at least, served to irritate and distract the Horntail long enough to provide Norbert an opportunity to inflict more damage on his hated foe.

The dark wizard abandoned all thoughts of fighting back in favor of self preservation as he hung on desperately to his dying mount and screamed for his followers to, "Save me, you fools!"

His pathetic cries for assistance only egged Charlie on to greater heights. The red headed wizard twisted to and fro in his saddle as he tried to get a clear shot at the dark wizard, but soon abandoned the effort when he realized that the approaching ground would finish his task for him.

" Goodbye, Norbert." Charlie called out as he hugged his dying friend's scaled back, closing his eyes to await the 'sudden, jarring impact' that would mark their end.

After that things got understandably hazy.

Charlie tried, but he could only remember bits and pieces of what happened next. _Norbert's defiant roar, the surge of immense strength as he ripped himself from the Horntail's clutches…, _and the last thing he remembered was- _feeling Norbert's tail wrapping protectively about his body._

Charlie awoke splayed at an odd angle on the pebbled shore of Black was several meters to his right, struggling to rise. The Horntail was off to the left, it's immense brown body now broken and lifeless. Huge rents in its side still oozed rivulets of steaming black blood. The dark wizard was nowhere to be seen from Charlie's limited vantage point, _hopefully crushed beneath the foul beast's carcass, and good riddance! _He contemplated with some measure of satisfaction, thru his own substantial pain.

Norbert began to mewl softly as his thrashing ceased. His pain filled eyes met Charlie's for the last time. "I..I know. " Charlie managed to choke out. "I..I'll -miss you too..."

Charlie last thoughts were of Norbert… and. Harry. He hoped he'd see his friend on the other side. Strange, he could almost swear he heard Harry calling his name. _He must be waiting for me on the other side_, he thought comfortingly, as unconsciousness took him.

**Boom! **

A peel of thunder heralded Harry's arrival on the rocky shore of Black Lake. Even traveling by lightning, it had taken him three jumps to make the distance. The distance itself wasn't the problem, it was harnessing and directing the amount of energy required to make the trip. There were only so many sources of life force available that he could safely draw the needed energy from and only so much power that his body could contain at one time. His body already ached with the effort of just getting here and by the look of things... he was already much too late.

The Dragon camp was a smoldering ruin. Charred sticks were all that remained of numerous outbuildings. The ground was littered with the remains of dozens of dragons and their luckless handlers. Some of their bodies were burnt beyond recognition; others were twisted and broken as if the life had been smashed from them. Huge foot prints were scattered throughout the grounds- Giants!

Harry was at least pleased to see the twisted remains of several scarlet cloaked figures amongst the dead. These were undoubtedly the camp's assailants. At least the dragon handler's had made a good fight of it and taken some of the bastards with them in death.

Three of the Scarlet robed assassins were still present and circling over head on the backs of Welch Greens. They looked to be setting up for another strafing run on the camp.

Harry growled angrily to himself. _The contemptible swine weren't even satisfied with total destruction, now they were preying upon the dead_.

He would have none of it.

_I need energy, a lot of energy?_ His eyes scanned the pebbled shoreline anxiously. There must be some life force still remaining in the area that he could draw upon. Everywhere he looked; there was naught but death and destruction. He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. _There! _Right there under his very nose- the lake.

Black lake was teeming with fish. It was a vast, near limitless supply of life source that would provide him with the needed energy to cast his elemental magic. He reached out with his senses, affording himself the brief comforting knowledge that life still survived in this place of death and destruction. Harry pulled himself back from the darkened waters and was about to draw on this font of energy when his senses picked up the barest echo of something, no- someone? Someone nearby clung desperately to the last vestiges of life.

Harry opened his eyes and scanned the shoreline, halting on a speck of red, crumpled on the pebbled shore.

_Blood? No, not blood_, _(though there was enough of that everywhere), red hair! _

"Charlie!" He blurted out as he ran to his friend's broken form.

What Harry found, sickened him to his very soul. He nearly lost his gorge when he looked down upon Charlie's shattered body. His eyes were glazed over in pain. Burns and gouges riddled his body and blood oozed from dozens of variously threatening wounds. His right leg was twisted at an odd angle to the rest of his body and his left arm hung in tatters, the merest scrap of flesh still attaching it to his body. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Charlie's mouth and nostrils, that told him his friend was broken inside, as well.

Charlie was panting something over and over. Each shallow breath looked to be his last. Harry lowered himself to listen, pulling back the hood of his cowl to expose an ear to hear better with.

"N-Norbert... Nor… bert.." Charlie croaked.

_Norbert? Surely not…? _Harry 's eyes fell on the broken form of a large blue tinged dragon that even in death appeared to have been trying to protectively cover Charlie with its own failing body.

_Norbert, Hagrid's surrogate child, the Norwegian Ridgeback he had helped get to safety back in his first year at Hogwarts._

Harry brushed a stray tear from his eye. Another friend had fallen. When would it finally be enough_? Charlie wasn't going to join him. Not if I have anything to say about it. _

A burst of flame whooshed past his left side and hissed angrily where it hit the waters of Black Lake. _Apparently the dragon riders were not attacking the dead... just the dying_.

Harry's rage over their cruelty was beyond measure.

Charlie's wounds were grievous. _H__e has no time_.

Another burst of flame shot past, narrowly missing them. A quick scan of the skies showed their enemies were closing in and soon would be in range. There wasn't enough time to gather the energy required to transport Charlie to safety, not before the dragons closed on them. His heart ached for his dying friend. Charlie needed medical help. He needed it now if he was to any chance of surviving!

Harry felt something stirring deep within himself. Something familiar, some spark was igniting in the core of his being. It was a sensation he had not felt since the night he had both gained his freedom, and yet lost everything that ever meant anything to him. It was the- _**fire! **_

Apparently he hadn't lost the ability to draw upon the _**phoenix fire**. _He had just lost his reason to be able to summon it. He had lost his love, or he had thought he had. Seeing Charlie's broken form lying at his feet, his need for help so desperate, had stirred his feelings of empathy and ... love?

He still loved! He still had the ability to feel and give love and as such; he could draw upon the fire. _No! _He would not, could not go back there. The fire was a trap, one who's price for its use was too great to pay. He rejected it and fought it down till he felt that barest of sparks, within him, flickered and finally snuff had other means at his disposal, one whose cost was not his very soul.

Harry's startled revelation had cost him precious time. Their attackers were rapidly closing in as they circled down from above. He decided that he would need to buy them some time. He reached out toward the lake and pulled on the life force of the thousands of fish within its murky depths. It took great concentration to avoid pulling too much energy too fast, or in too great a quantity from one area, lest he harm or even kill his unwitting accomplices. They were only fish, a food source for most, but he was not using them to sustain life and they were no less deserving of life than any other benign creature.

Harry's eyes crackled with energy and his hands began to glow a silvery blue. With a grunt of effort he shot his free hand up and released a bolt of searing blue lighting that slammed into the lead dragon, knocking it and it's rider from the sky. They tumbled into the lake's icy waters, causing the surface to hiss and churn violently, as their charred remains sunk beneath the waves. Harry continued to draw upon the water's inhabitants with his right hand , as he fired bolts of lightning into the air with his left.

The two remaining pairs of dragons and their riders were swerving through the air, trying to present as difficult a target as possible, but, they were not giving up on their attack . The pair continued to rain fire and _hexes_ down upon them, whilst Harry filled the air with searing bolts of electric fire in return.

Charlie's groans distracted him, his friend was fading. This battle could not continue. Harry poured everything into a final spell. Thunder boomed and the sky filled with dozens of lightning bolts that arced down in all directions. One bolt connected with a dragon and he and his rider screamed in agony as the lightning tore through them, roasting them from within, until finally, their hollow remains crumpled to ash and were carried away by the wind. The other rider spurred his mount out across the lake, pelting for the safety of the distant mountain ranges.

Harry crumpled to his knees , panting from his Herculean effort. His head was spinning, stomach churning, flashes of light appeared before his eyes. He closed his eyes trying to wait out the waves of dizziness and nausea that washed over him. Charlie's groans were becoming fainter. He could not afford to delay further. Harry fought down the bile rising in his throat as he gathered Charlie's broken form into his arms and lifted him from the stony shore. Harry swayed for a moment, but Charlie's moan of pain forced him to concentrate and focus on the task at hand. He shook his head to clear the stars from his vision and fixed a point in his mind.

He could not take Charlie to a hospital in Romania ,as he did not know where a hospital was to be found. He simply did not know the geography of this country, other than the location of the Dragon Reserve. St. Mungo's would be the best choice, but it was so far away and Harry could not risk exposing himself there. There was only one logical choice and it was this location's coordinates that he now fixed within his mind.

Charlie was fading rapidly. Harry could feel his life force begin to ebb away.

_Gods, I have to do this in one go! _

Harry pulled life force from the lake. He pulled and pulled, till every fiber of his being screamed in agony. It felt like his very blood was on fire, every muscle in his body began to spasm and contract with the strain. Still, he pulled more energy into himself. His ears began ringing and he could feel the wetness as blood trickled from his nose,… and still he pulled more power into his agonized body.

Finally, he broke the connection with the lake and bent low over his friend whispering.

"Hang on Charlie, it's going to be alright."

Harry never noticed how Charlie's glazed eyes seem to come into focus for the barest moment in recognition of the sound of his voice.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground with a blinding flash… they were gone.

Hooded eyes watched from a safe distance away as the brief battle concluded and the mysterious mage, gathered the broken form of the hated red haired wizard, before departing in a flash of lightning.

_My God, what power! _

Alexander Morvis was not a man to frighten easily, even Voldemort had never truly frightened him. Harry Potter had been the first person to ever fill his soul with dread, but he was gone, _thank the dark gods of the pit_. _This new comer, this what,... elemental? Now, this was a person to fear._

Morvis allowed himself a brief chuckle. _If one's greatness could be measured by the strength of his enemies, than I, like Voldemort before me, must be truly great indeed; to have raised the ire of one who commanded such vast power. _

**Hogwarts**

**Boom! **

Headmistress McGongal's chair flew over backwards-with her in it!

She struggled to her feet cursing vehemently. "If those first year Weasley twin wannabes have blown up another toilet, I'll...?"

She was interrupted by a flare of emerald fire from her hearth and Poppy Pomfrey's voice shrieked out urgently, "Minerva? Minerva, are you there?"

She had never heard such alarm in the medi- witch's voice before. It was unsettling to say the least.

"Poppy...? What is it ? What's happened?"

The blood drained from her face as she heard her unflappable friend's tear wrought, even panicked answer. "M-Minnie, Oh M-Minnie, come quickly. P-Please hurry, please…"

Minerva McGonagal bolted from her office taking the back stair down from her office. Moments later she burst into the infirmary to find her friend bent over a bed on the far wall, tending to a person who's face she couldn't see. The bed occupant's arm hung in tatters and were it not for the bandage she was hurriedly applying, it looked as if it might fall off of his body at any moment.

McGonagal skidded to a halt ,her eyes goggled at the cracked and scorched marble floor . She took a moment to scan the rest of the room and realized that not only had all of the infirmary's beds been thrown to the opposite side of the room, but there were spatters of blood everywhere.

"What?...Who.. ? " She stammered.

Pomfrey turned wild eyes on her friend, who could now see the face of the person Pomfrey was tending.

"Charlie Weasley?" McGonagal gasped.

"Minerva, You've got to help me. He's not going to make it!" Pomfrey begged.

"If his wounds are that bad, then we must get him to St. Mungo's at once. Perhaps the healers there can…?"

Pomfrey cut her off, shaking her head she sobbed, "N-Not him, M-Minnie,... Harry. We have to f-find Harry!" Pomfrey's hands covered her face as she began to cry.

Minerva was shaken to the core. Never in all the years she'd known Poppy, had she ever saw her friend lose control. She was always a model of professionalism.

_Only Harry,... only Harry could have this effect_. There was that about him that just got under your skin and pulled on your heartstrings.

She pulled her friend into a tender embrace and consoled, "There, there, Poppy dear. Now tell me what's all this about Harry? That is, I assume, we are talking about Harry Potter?"

Pomfrey stepped out of her arms and wiped furiously at her eyes. She stamped her foot and answered in an irate huff, "Of course I'm talking about Harry Potter, you great ninny!"

McGonagal's mouth formed an 'O' and she raised her eyebrows in surprise before chiding; "Such language. Poppy, I'm surprised at you. Now, how is Mr. Weasley and what's all this about young Harry, then?"

Pomfrey waved her hand airily in Charlie's direction and answered unconcernedly, "Oh, he'll be fine. Nothing a good potion or two, a few mending spells, and weeks of rest won't put to right. He was always a tough nut . I admit though it was touch and go there when he first arrived, but Harry..?"

Pomfrey grasped her friend's hands and searched her face, her own eyes beginning to fill.

"Minnie, he's hurt. He's terribly, terribly hurt. I was in the stock room when I heard this horrendous booming sound that shook the walls and knocked my supplies everywhere. I ran out here to see what happened? I found the room spattered with blood and Harry was laying Charlie on the bed he now occupies. He hefted Charlie as if he weighed no more than a child, but for all that, he was ever so gentle as he laid him on the bed. I-I didn't even know it was Harry at the time. His back was turned to me and he was wearing this heavy brown, hooded cloak. He called out to me. 'Please', he said. 'Please, Charlie's hurt'. There was such urgency in his voice that I didn't recognize his voice at first. It was when he pulled back his hood that I first recognized it was Harry and that's when I became afraid. Oh God, Minnie, his face, his eyes, so much pain... and the blood? There was blood everywhere."

McGonagal's face paled, her eyes blazed in sudden understanding. Her voice was hard and accusing.

"Do you mean to tell me that this is Harry's blood, not Charlie's? Poppy, how could you have let him go if he was so terribly wounded?"

Pomfrey's mouth fell open in shock, but she quickly recovered and snapped back indignantly. "Of course, I didn't just let him go, he just left! "

Her anger faded as her worries poured out of her in a torrent."I-I begged him to stay. I was desperate for him to stay. He wasn't wounded though, at least not on the outside, but, M-Minnie, he…" She began to sob again as she struggled to finish. "... h-he was bleeding from the ears, nose and mouth! I could see it was taking everything he had left in him just to stay on his feet. That's when he really frightened me. He knelt over Charlie and kissed his forehead. Then he said. 'Good bye, Charlie'. He tried to stand back up, it was such a struggle for him. He grabbed his head and groaned out, 'God, this... h-hurts'. I-In all the years I've taken care of that boy, n-never, not once, has he ever admitted he was in pain."

McGonagal blanched at that. _What had she done? She did this. She sent him to Romania._

Her brief moment of despair passed and she quickly recovered herself and went into her patented 'take charge' mode.

"Poppy, I need you to inform the Weasley's that Charles is here. Make sure that you reassure them that while he is injured, he will recover."

She held up her hand to ward off the medi-witch's protests. "I know, I know... how to explain his presence here? Just tell them that we found him at the gates this afternoon, as is. It's not as if mysteries don't occur every day in the magical world, besides, I think they will just be more grateful than curious, for the time being."

Pomfrey started to object, but upon seeing the determined glint in her friend's eyes she closed her mouth and just nodded her acceptance before adding dejectedly, "And, Harry?"

McGonagal reached out and grasped her friend's arm bracingly. "I've an idea where he might have gone. If I find him, I'll bring him directly to my private chambers, away from ,er,… prying eyes."

She nodded her head meaningfully toward Charlie Weasley, who no doubt would shortly be surrounded by caring, red-headed family members.

"I'll be ready when you return, Minerva, do hurry." she called as the headmistress swept from the infirmary.

Only a few minutes later, Ron and Hermione flew up to the stairs to the infirmary, stopping abruptly at the doors so as not to incur the wrath of Madam Pomfrey. She never took kindly to people barging into her ward and disturbing her patients, no matter the circumstances. Ron was glad that they had entered quietly, otherwise they would have disturbed the tender scene before them.

Charlie was unconscious. Ginny was sitting at Charlie's bedside. Her face was buried in his chest and her back was shaking as she sobbed quietly. Ron felt a pang of regret for intruding on them, but he couldn't help but feel a bit heartened that this was further evidence of the old Ginny finally returning. By the sound of Hermione's quiet snuffling beside him, he could tell she was of the same mind.

Things had continued to be strained between he and his sister since the aftermath of the Gryffindor quidditch match earlier this month. Strained was actually putting it mildly. Ginny had avoided him for weeks, often breaking into tears and running at the sight of him. There was, however, evidence of some positive changes on Ginny's part. No longer did he find himself in the embarrassing situation of discovering her snogging in broom closets when making his prefect rounds at night. Instead, he had noticed her spending the majority of her time studying in a small corner of the common room by herself. He had tried to approach her once, but when she caught sight of him she gathered her books and parchment in a rush before flying up the stairs to the safety of her dormitory.

Not wanting to intrude on Ginny's privacy any longer, he took Hermione's arm and nodded back toward the infimary door from whence they came. They were almost out the door when the squeak of a small voice halted Ron in his tracks.

"R-Ron?" she whimpered

He turned to find his sisters red rimmed eyes staring back at him. She wiped a shaky hand across her face in a feeble attempt to brush away the evidence of her having been crying. Ginny rose slowly from her perch at Charlie's bedside and took a halting step toward them. She stopped after only a single step, looking frightened and unsure if they would accept her presence.

She bit nervously at her lower lip and stuttered, "R-Ron... I..."

She didn't need to finish her thought as her brother smiled warmly and held out his arms to her. Ginny flew into his waiting arms and hugged him fiercely. Her voice cracked as she snuffled into his chest.

"Oh, Ronnie,I'm so s-sorry. I've been a s-selfish, stupid git. When I heard about Charlie all I could think about was how I've been treating you and 'Mione and h-how much worse it would be if it was you lying there ,... a-and I didn't get the chance to tell you how sorry I am for everything."

"Shhh, shush now, it's alright." he soothed. " 'Mione and I aren't going anywhere and neither is Charlie."

Hermione gave them a moment and then joined them in their embrace. "It's alright Ginny, everything will be alright, you'll see. The important thing is that we're all… almost all together." She corrected herself as she remembered what day this was and what it meant for her and Ron.

Ginny turned to her friend and whispered softly. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know what this day means to you."

She kissed Hermione softly on the cheek and suggested. "Why don't you and Ron go visit Harry's grave. I'll stay here with Charlie until mum and dad get here. We can all meet back at the Burrow later."

Hermione smiled warmly and gave her a hug in return. "Thank you, Ginny. That's very sweet of you."

Ginny grasped her brother's hand and squeezed reassuringly. "That's what family's are for. I'd forgotten that for a while there, but I promise, I'm not ever going to forget it again."

**Godric's Hollow**

McGonagal apparated to the courtyard of the cemetery nestled behind St. Timothy's church in Godric's Hollow. She couldn't be sure that she would find him here. She really had no other options, but her instinct's told her this was where she should look.

Albus had once confided in her that Harry made yearly sojourns to his parent's gravesite on Christmas and it seemed the mostly likely place to start her search, not that there was any other place she could think he might go. Harry was as much a mystery now as he had ever been. Emboldened to find the small iron gate standing ajar, McGonagal hurried toward the rear of the cemetery. The clicking of her heals on the cobblestone path echoed through the quiet stillness of this place of peace.

She rounded the back corner of the cathedral and halted with a gasped, "Thank, God!" as her eyes fell upon the limp form lying in the new fallen snow before the graves of James and Lily Potter.

Despite her advancing age, she all but flew to the fallen form of her friend. Her face blanched as she took in his pale features and the spattering of blood that stained the otherwise pristine landscape. Blood continued to trickle from his nose and ears, but was slowing... _hopefully due to the cold and not substantial blood loss._

She pulled off a glove and tentatively drew her fingers to the side of his throat to search for a pulse. She closed her eyes and mouthed a brief prayer of thanks when she found his pulse. It was faint , but it was there.

A pair of 'pops' sounded from the courtyard behind her. Other mourners were no doubt coming to pay their respects this Christmas morning. She would need to hurry. McGonagal rummaged inside of her cloak and withdrew the satin handkerchief that would serve as her return _portkey_ to Hogwarts. She hastily caste random _scourgify_ _charms _over the area to erase the blood left in evidence of his having been there. She had just grabbed his hand as was beginning to activate the _portkey _when she noticed the pair of white roses he'd left upon his parent's graves.

_Even now_, she thought. _A__fter all these years and having suffered so much; he still thinks of others first. Despite his dire state, in all of his pain, he still came here to honor his parents. _

Tears fell from her aging eyes.

"Oh Lily, he's such an amazing young man." She rasped. "I'm so sorry that you couldn't have known him better. He's..." Her lament went unfinished as the sound of footsteps heralded their need to depart. She activated the _portkey_ and with a pull behind her naval- they were gone.

"Ron, did you hear that? It sounded like someone _apparating_ or a _portkey _being used?"

He partner just shrugged his shoulders as he offered her his arm. "It's hardly a mystery, 'Mione. It is Christmas after all. I'm sure we're not the only ones that have come here to pay our respects." He waved his arm across the cemetery to emphasize his remark.

Many of the graves were adorned with fresh flowers and holiday wreaths. She nodded he head in agreement as they walked to the rear of the graveyard.

Ron watched her from the corner of his eye, his heart clenched as the tears he had been expecting began to fall from her soft brown eyes. _She was so lovely in every way. Merlin, how did I ever get so lucky? _His arm drifted around her shoulders, in support as they approached Harry's grave. Ron's eyes bulged and he could hear a gasp escape Hermione as they took in the scene that lay before them.

The snow in front of the Potter's graves looked like someone had been lying in it. Even more startling was the pair of white roses that were left on top of James and Lilly Potter's graves, but nothing was left on Harry's.

Hermione tensed under his arm. "Do you think Remus could have left the flowers? I mean, he was the only person we know of, still living, that knew Harry always left a white rose for each of his parents?"

Ron shook his head in consternation. "I can't see how? I know Remus was James and Lily's friend and all, but I can't see him leaving a flower for them without acknowledging Harry?"

Hermione knelt in the snow and gently lifted the rose from Lily's grave; it was still unfrozen despite the chill air.

"Whoever left it, couldn't have been here too long ago, the flowers haven't frozen yet."

Her eyes narrowed as she spied a single drop of blood clinging to one of the thorns on the rose she held. Her curiosity switched into over drive as she conjured a glass tube and deftly collected the blood sample.

"Hermione! Just what do you think you're doing?" Ron scolded her, obviously shocked by her actions.

Her eyebrows knit as she twisted around to answer him. "It's evidence. Something strange is going on here and I intend to find out what."

Ron's mouth fell open and his ears reddened. "It's not evidence." he scoffed. "It's a token of remembrance. A gift left to honor the dead. What can you be thinking?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously as she sprang to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. Ron took a step backward warily.

"I'll tell you what I'm thinking, Ronald Weasley. I'm thinking that something strange is going on in the world today. First, Charlie winds up in the infirmary at Hogwarts, not that I'm not grateful mind you, but seemingly he arrives out of nowhere, and all the way from Romania?"

"He was hurt, disorientated. It was probably the first place he could think to apparate to." Ron offered lamely by way of an explanation.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation. "Don't be a prat. Charlie's a good wizard, but nobody, and I mean nobody, is powerful enough to apparate that distance, especially not in his condition what with all of those injuries. Next, we come here and find the snow around the Potter's grave trampled and flowers left, but only for James and Lily? I don't know why, but somehow I have this feeling that the two events are connected. I don't intend to over look anything, not a single clue."

"Clues?" Ron retorted in a scandalized tone. "Hermione, would you listen to yourself? This isn't a crime scene, it's a grave site. This is Harry's family's resting place, or have you forgotten? Someone left these flowers to honor the Potter's memory. He or she, must have just pricked there finger on the rose's thorns. There's nothing more to it. No mystery. They probably didn't leave any flowers on Harry's grave, because he's not here, not his body anyway. The aurors never recovered his body from the wreckage at Greystone, you know that. Magic folk tend to recognize the distinction. A bit silly really, but they usually only leave flowers at the bodies final resting place. I bet that if we went to Greystone we'd find the landscape filled with flowers from all of Harry's well wishers. I feel like you do though. This is where Harry will be... with his parents. This is where he would expect us to come. Hermione luv, it's Christmas. Charlie's safely back with his family. He's hurt, but, he's gonna be alright. I don't know how he was rescued and frankly, I don't care. I'm just grateful. I'd like to think that Harry had something to do with it. I dunno, like he's an angel or something, and he's still out there watching over us."

Hermione's face paled, her eyes wide, "You f-feel it too? I was thinking the same thing. It's just a feeling really, but I've been kind of thinking that this whole thing with Charlie, it... it just feels like Harry somehow. Then we come here and the roses, white roses, like Harry used to leave for his parents... it's just... oh my!" Her eyes jumped ashamedly to her hand as she realized she still clutched the flower from Lily Potter's grave.

She hastily laid the flower back on her grave and took a step back and sobbed. "Oh, Harry... Harry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to disturb your mother's grave."

She turned and buried her tear wrought face in Ron's shoulders, her hands wrapped around him desperately.

"Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't think. Harry must be so ashamed of me right now." She snuffled.

Ron wrapped his arms around her and chuckled softly in her ear." Course, he's not. He loves you. You're the sister of his heart, remember? He knows how naturally curious you are. He and Sirius are probably teasing his mum, at your expense , right now."

"Y-You think? " She hiccupped.

"I think." He answered warmly. He lifted her chin and gazed into her soft eyes. "Now, let's wish Harry a Merry Christmas and then I have something I want to show you... a surprise."

She nodded her head and turned back to the Potter's graves. "Merry Christmas, brother of my heart..."she began.

A short while later a lone couple side along apparated to the coast of England. The sun was just beginning to set at their backs.

"Where are we Ron?" Hermione asked.

He took her hand and led her down a gravel roadway, "You'll see, it's just around the trees a head."

They rounded the corner and came to a large iron gate way with a large bronze plaque that read:

**Hero's Fall**

**This site is dedicated in loving memory to: **

**Harry James Potter **

_**His strength and courage has saved us all!**_

Hermione gasped in wonder, not only by what the sign read, but at the scene that stretched out before her. A giant chasm gaped before them. It was all that remained of Greystone Manor. The air smelled of salt and she could hear the crashing of waves in the distance. These things were not what entranced her and made her gasp in delight though,... it was the flowers! It was just as Ron had predicted. The landscape before her was dotted with literally thousands of flowers, left be those that had come to pay their respects to Harry's memory.

She threw herself into his arms and sighed. "Oh, Ron, Thank you! I wish we had thought to bring some flowers too?"

He grinned and cocked his eyebrow at her asking incredulously. "Brought some flowers? Hermione, are you a witch or aren't you?"

"Oh" She chuckled as she conjured a bouquet of red roses.

Alexander Morvis sat brooding before a raging fire. Neither the heat of the flames nor the glass of fire whiskey in his hand brought him any warmth or comfort.

_Gods of the night! Such incredible power._ He pondered the timely arrival of the robed interloper that arrived in the 'nick of time' to save the fallen red headed wizard before his servant's could finish him off.

_If I didn't know any better, I'd say he commanded Earth Magic, but that's impossible? There are no more elementals left in the world and there hasn't been for millennia. _

A steady rapping at his door brought him from his musings.

"Enter" he called.

A masked and scarlet robedfigured approached him nervously before bowing low and prostrating himself at his feet.

"Speak, dog." He intoned flatly.

"Master, intelligence reports that the red headed wizard was one, Charlie Weasley. He is a member of the Weasley family back in England, purebloods all."

"Blood traitors- all! Morvis spat back venomously.

"Just so milord." His servant sniveled in reply.

"And the other?" Morvis hissed.

His servant gulped nervously before replying. "None can say, milord. No one could see his face and his, er, magic was rather unique?"

"Leave me." Morvis barked in reply.

His servant rose and scurried from the room, eager to obey and avoid his master's unpredictable wrath at receiving 'bad news'. Thankfully, another would be taking his place as messenger, after the holidays.

_Weasley, always a damn Weasley, with their blundering interference. It would seem that the Weasley family has found a new guardian, someone to take Harry Potter's place as the family's watchdog._

He smiled darkly as he considered further._ Voldemort was great, his greatness measured by the strength of his enemies and Harry Potter, for all his youth, had proven to be a powerful enemy. For all his much vaunted power, even Harry Potter, could not match the strength of this new mysterious challenger that had saved Weasely at the Dragon Reserve. Yes, truly; if the strength of one's enemies was any indicator... then I am indeed destined for greatness._


	14. Chapter 14: Regrettably Good Intentions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters**_**:**_

**Chapter Fourteen: Regrettably Good Intentions **

Harry awoke with a pounding headache, his surroundings strange , yet familiar. The room was adorned in pleasing shades of gold and maroon-Gryffindor colors. The bed was a rich dark wood, a four poster, like his own back in Griffyndor tower, but this chamber was far too vast and more generously appointed than his old dormitory.

A throat cleared and turned his gaze to the source.

"Professor McGonagal? He croaked in sudden understanding. " I'm at Hogwarts then?"

"Of course." She replied with a soft smile. " My bedchamber to be exact."

"Your bedchamber!" He barked in shocked surprise.

"What a coincidence." Madam Pomfrey chimed as she bustled into the room, pulling vials of foul looking potions from her robes. " I believe that's how the last wizard described it, that same note of alarm in his voice when he awoke to find himself sequestered in your bedchamber, Minerva."

"Pfft!" McGonagal scoffed. "You're a one to talk, Poppy. The only wizards that have found themselves bedded in you proximity were patients, and even they were eager to depart once your sedating potions wore off."

Harry's eyes shifted back and forth like a spectator at a muggle tennis match, as they continued to banter back and forth. " Ungh" He groaned loudly.

"Are you in great pain, dear boy? Pomfrey asked in concern.

"That depends. How long have I been here and just how much longer do I have to stay."

Pomfrey handed him a vial of potion to drink and smiled mischievously. "He has that same note of despair in his voice, just like the last wizard you had in your bedchamber, Minnie."

McGonagal rolled her eyes and chose to ignore her, concentrating on Harry's questions as she could see his patience was wearing thin and Pomfrey's potions would undoubtedly be rendering him senseless shortly.

"Well," she began hesitantly, " To answer your first question, Happy New Year."

Harry's face screwed up in concentration, before his eyes went wide in sudden realization. "What,.. I've been here a week?" He struggled to get up , but fell back into his bed, clutching his head in agony.

Pomfrey clucked her tongue at him as he wreathed in the bed moaning. "The pain will end soon, Harry. You must try not to tax yourself, it'll only make things worse. You ruptured some of the blood vessels in your brain, it was a near thing but you've recovered considerably, as always." She sighed wearily before adding. " When, Harry? When will all this stop? When will you start learning to be more careful and take better care of your self?"

The pain in his head subsided and Harry laid his head back on his pillow , panting as the last waves of pounding agony disbursed and the pain potion she'd given him began to take effect. He kept his eyes tightly shut as he willed the pain away and ground out…

"Do you think I plan for things to go this way? Do you really think I like being injured and in pain all the time? I can't remember a time when I haven't been in pain. The beatings from the Dursley's was the start of it. Then Voldemort gave me those terrible headaches through my scar ever time the bastard got in a murderous rage, which was pretty much all the time. Now, I've got the pleasure of having some last vestige of his twisted soul tearing away at my magic and fouling everything that's still me with it's taint. Oh ,God!" He threw his arm over his face as he began to sob, whispering to himself, but still loud enough fro McGonagal and Pomfrey to still hear. "When will this all be over,.. why can't I just die?"

Pomfrey's face contorted and tears fell from her eyes. Never, not in all the years she's tended students, had one ever gotten to her the way Harry had, and in all that time, never had she ever seen him despair. Up till now, she'd never thought him capable. She cursed her self silently for having made the same mistake as the rest of the wizarding world did by putting everything on Harry Potter's shoulders. _For all his power, he's sti_ll _just one man, barely more than a boy really. Surely he was not put in this world just to protect the rest of us at the cost of his own happiness and well being? _

Pomfrey looked over Harry's sobbing form at her friend and could tell by the pained expression on her face and the tear stains on her cheeks , that Minnie was thinking the same thing; _Of all the men and women on God's good Earth, surely he deserves the same peace and happiness that the rest of us so readily enjoy,.. nay, even take for granted ,because we have someone like Harry Potter out there, watching over and protecting us._

Mcgonagal wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief and grasped Harry's hand comfortingly as his crying subsided. _I must offer him some hope, but what hope was there to offer one who'd lost so much? Still, I must try._

"Harry"

"Alan" he corrected.

"Pardon me?"

"I said it's Alan, Alan Brandt" he corrected in a monotone.

"Let's stop this foolishness." She scolded "You are alone amongst people you can trust . There's no reason to continue with this false pretense of being Alan Brandt. You were born Harry James Potter and... "

"and I'll die Alan Brandt." He cut her off bitterly.

"Harry, changing your name does not change who you are or whom you were meant to be. You're a wizard,.. a hero! You're the savior of the wizarding world." She countered bracingly.

He turned scornful eyes on her and snorted, "The wizarding world? What has the wizarding world ever done for me? One wizard killed my parents, another wizard put me with a family that hated and despised me just for the fact that I was cursed with having the bad luck of being born a wizard. That was Dumbledore's doing. The same wizard who cared so much that he never even bothered to check on me for eleven years, or, if he did, then he surly turned a blind eye to all the pain and neglect those people heaped upon me. Dumbledore!.." he spat the name out as if it was poison on the lips, causing the two women two cringe in fear.

" Dumbledore thought I was some kind of a hero , a what did you call it; a savior? He thought I was some kind of a savior too, and because of it he used and manipulated me. What was my thanks? How did he repay me for my so called triumphs? I'll tell you what he did. Every year he wrapped me up in his magical protection package back at Private drive with those cursed Dursleys! It was for my own good you see; the beatings, the starving, the tying me up and locking me away in a cupboard under the stairs. That was for my own protection. It was important to keep me alive, (despite my miserable existence), so that he could pull me out of my little cupboard every year to face some new, impossibly dangerous task that would again ensure the safety of the magical world once completed."

McGonagal's face was a mask of shock, outrage even. " Harry, surely you don't believe for a moment that Dumbledore knew your family was abusing you? He would have never put up with such a thing, not in a million years. He…"

"He knew! It took me a while to come to it, but, he knew." Harry barked angrily. " If he didn't know then why did my Hogwart's letters always arrive addressed to: Mr. H. Potter, Private Drive,( cupboard under the stair)? He knew alright, he just didn't care, at least not about me anyway. I was just a tool, something required to get the job done. I suppose I shouldn't complain really, he at least maintained me. Dumbledore kept me in good working order so that I would be ready when needed."

He snorted disdainfully before continuing. "That's what my time here at Hogwarts was for. I was fed and fattened up a bit. Learned magic and sharpened my skills. I even got to play a little quidditch for which I was so grateful at the time. It was all great fun, or so I thought, but what I was really doing was training. I was getting myself in good form so that I could make a good show of it when Dumbledore's tool was needed again."

McGonagal's mouth hung agape. She couldn't believe she was hearing this from him,.. and the bitterness in his voice? She'd never known that the Dursley's had abused him.

_Dumbledore never made any mention of it,... but the boy was always so thin, so haunted. As for the rest of it? Could it be true? _She'd never considered, not even once, but yes, from his perspective… and Dumbledore?

_He knew. He must have known that Harry was being abused, or at the very least incarcerated,.. if that was how he was_ _addressing his letters to Harry, via ( the cupboard under the stairs), then he must have known! _

McGonagal pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, trying to hide the tears that were forming within them. Pomfrey had long since lost that battle and was snuffling softly on the other side of his bed.

Perhaps she could salvage something of this. Give him something positive to consider. "But Harry, Hogwarts was more than that for you. You made friends here. Friends that stood by you. Friends that loved and cared and…"

"Ultimately betrayed me…" he finished stoically for her.

McgGonagal was shaken to the core, not just by his words , but by the flat tone of his voice. _Why would they_.. ?

"Betray you? Harry, how could you possibly think that,.. and if so.. why would you go to such great lengths to have saved Charlie Weasley?"

His face darkened and she could tell he was struggling to control himself. Thunder boomed ominously in the distance from what had previously been a cloudless, sunny winter's day.

His words were short and sharp as he answered her. "Last summer when I was here, I heard you and Pomfrey talking one night. I know what they did to Ginny. All of them, except Charlie. I owed him. I repaid that debt on Christmas. I didn't need to hear you talking to know that something was wrong last summer. Hell, I knew before then that something had changed and changed drastically. I knew it because I could no longer call upon the _Phoenix Fire. _Ironic you might say?" he finished incredulously.

They waited quietly ,expecting him to continue, but he said nothing more. He just stared blankly ahead.

Pomfrey, whom had been listening intently, prompted him. "How is that ironic, Harry?"

He turned blank eyes on her. "The whole thing stinks of Hermione's doing, though I'm sure Ron helped." He muttered bitterly before answering them.

"The one thing that could save me from Voldemort's taint is _Phoenix Fire. _'only great love can hope to conquer great evil', was how I read the quote. I found it in an ancient tome that professed that only such legendary power as the _Phoenix Fire, _could cure the effects of Voldemort's spell and heal my magic, my soul. It's ironic because I can no longer summon the _fire, _you see. I cannot call upon the _fire_ for one very simple reason- love. The _fire _is a double edged sword. It cuts both ways. It not only requires that you love, but that you are loved in return. Whilst I still love Ginny with all my heart, she no longer loves, or should I say, is incapable of loving me in return. Hence, I no longer possess the means to raise _Phoenix Fire _and cure my affliction."

He paused and took in their puzzled with their lack of understanding he sneered. "Ladies, the irony is that when my so called "friends" not only raped Ginny's mind and stole away her love for me, but by doing so, they signed my death warrant. Ginny can no longer love me and because of it, I cannot summon the _fire_ and cure myself, not that I would want to any more anyway. What good is life, any life, without love in it. I'm afraid that I'm very much my father's son. Potter men only love once it seems? I no longer have nor want- love. Ultimately, love both saved and destroyed me, as it saved and destroyed Ginny."

He sighed heavily and finished as sleep overtook his tired mind. " No,... no longer am I Harry Potter. That name no longer has meaning for me. Alan Brandt will do. A person that came from nowhere.. and.. has.. Nowhere. to.. go…"

McGonagal and Pomfrey stared at him for the longest time. Each felt he was wrong. He was wrong on so many levels , but was in too dark a place to realize it or care. Voldemort's taint was slowing devouring his hope leaving naught but bitterness and despair in it's wake.

**Eastern Europe **

"Do you know why I summoned you here?" Morvis asked flatly.

"Summoned? I do not answer a summons. I am not some sniveling lapdog, such as my father was to Voldemort. I believed you requested an audience with me, Mr. Morvis?"

"Lord Morvis." He answered with a hint of irritation to his voice.

Draco Malfoy, waved his hand airily. "Call yourself what you will. I have not taken any vows to follow your lead, nor will I do so until you have proven yourself worthy of my loyalties. As I said, I'm not my father." he sneered.

"You take many chances at my expense, but you are right. Wizards should not blindly lead. They must decide for themselves their own course. I am not Voldemort. I do not expect, nor demand blind obedience from my followers. I want wizards and witches whom are loyal, of course, but more importantly, I want people who can think for themselves within my ranks. I intend to lead by example, not by threat. Do not misunderstand me though, I do punish failure, but I do not simply kill the messenger simply because I do not like the message. That perhaps was Voldemort's greatest mistake,... that and under estimating Harry Potter?"

Draco's lips curled distastefully. "Potter was a fool. He had courage, I grant you that, but his greatest asset was the loyalty of his friends. They threw their lives away, time and again, in his defense."

"Do not speak of matters for which you do not fully understand." Morvis intoned. There was a note of warning in his voice that had Draco swallowing nervously.

"I was their the night he came for Voldemort. Potter's power was incredible to behold. He shrugged off killing curses as if they were nothing. He went through Voldemort's remaining Death Eaters as if we were as less than nothing. We were no more to him than a swarm of blood flies, and he swatted us aside accordingly. As to how he fared against Voldemort's power, I cannot attest. I had the opportunity to retreat and I am not ashamed to say that I took it. A brave man stands and fights, but an intelligent man knows when it is time to withdraw. I see by your expression you see the wisdom of these words. You have studied the art of warfare?"

"I have sir." Draco acknowledged. "I have studied both wizarding and muggle forms of warfare. I have even studied muggle forms of personal combat; karate, fencing, that sort of thing. I think it foolish to limit oneself. My father thought it a waste of time to learn anything muggle related, however, he is now dead. It bears cold testament to his short sightedness."

"Indeed. I can see that you and I are of one mind in this young Malfoy."

Morvis brightened, pleased by the young wizard's foresight. " I also do not believe in limiting myself, nor like Voldemort, do I intend to underestimate my opponents. It is for this very reason I have, er…requested your presence here today. I know that you previously have attended Hogwarts and have had some acquaintance with several members of the Weasley family. What can you tell me of them?"

"The Weasleys?" Draco blurted in surprise. "Surly you haven't asked me here just to waste my time over those red headed, blood traitor, paupers?"

Morvis raised an eyebrow and answered incredulously. "They are undoubtedly all of those things, but they have other characteristics that can surly be admired? For one so well studied, I'm surprised you have over looked the obvious? They are a large family, so I have been told. How is it, that such a large brood has managed to fight it's way through the last war and come through it entirely intact? You yourself were from a family of three, and yet you are now the last of your blood. No, there is more to the Weasley family than meets the eye."

Draco considered his words for a few moments before answering thoughtfully. "I concede your point. Their strength is not only in their numbers, they are some what talented magically, I must confess. They are a tight knit group and fiercely loyal to not only themselves, but their friends. Attack one and I can assure you that you will be soon have the rest of them breathing down your neck. They're a tenacious lot."

Morvis stroked his chin as he pondered this insight into the Weasley family,

"Hmm, that does seem to fit the description I've heard of them, however, they must have some weakness, some chink in their armor that can be exploited?"

Draco's eye's narrowed shrewdly. His own mind calculating the reasons behind this sudden interest in the Weasley's.

"Perhaps there is though why you'd be interested is beyond me as they are half a continent away and surly they pose no interference to your plans?"

"The Weasleys in and of themselves matter little to me, however, there is another that has entered the picture."

"Another?" Draco prodded innocently.

"As you already are aware I had recent business at the Dragon Reserve in Romania. It was a successful venture by most accounts, however , it was not as successful as I had anticipated. In the course of our dealings at the Reserve, we encountered one of the Weasely family, a Charles Weasley, to be exact. You're right in your assessment of them; they are a tenacious lot. Mr. Weasley proved a distraction, however, he is not to whom I had previously referred. Their was another wizard that came to his aid, someone who commanded great power. It may be no more than chance coincidence that he arrived when he did, but I am not given to idly believe in coincidence. Like Potter before, I am given to suspect that the Weasley family has found another protector. I would prefer to eliminate this individual before I proceed with my own plans. I, like Voldemort before me, can ill afford another champion to rise up like Potter did. I believe that the Weasleys are the key to finding and drawing out this mysterious enemy."

Draco did his best to school his features and not betray his growing excitement over the possibilities that could come from this request for assistance. True, Morvis was no Voldemort, but the man's numbers were growing rapidly. Morvis's predicament could yet provide him a much desired opportunity in the future, that is, if Morvis's own mad schemes for world conquest should miraculously come to fruition. If he played his cards right, who knows what the future might hold for him, in more ways than one.

"The Weasley's could be brought to heel,...it's possible?" He mused slyly. " If their is another, as you say, that has taken up the mantle of protecting the Weasley family as Potter previously did? He too could most likely be brought out into the open if provided the proper motivation?" Draco paused for effect. " It would however, require a great deal of my personal time, that is if you want to make sure that the thing is done correctly and expediently?"

Morvis smirked knowingly. "What do you want in return Master Malfoy?"

Draco was readying to pounce. "Two things. One is trifling, hardly worthy of mentioning, the other, however?"

"What is it?" Morvis intoned, his voice showing that his patience was wearing thin.

Draco went for the throat. "When all is said and done and you have conquered the world, I want Britain!"

**"What?"** Morvis thundered in outrage.

Draco raised his hands pleadingly. "Here me out? If what you say is true and there is another that has the potential to ruin things they way that Potter did in the last war, than you are certainly presenting me with a dangerous undertaking. I do not lightly consider sticking my head in the 'hornet's nest' that would surly be the result of taking on the Weasley family, nor do I relish the prospect of incurring the wrath of an unknown and obviously very powerful wizard. I am, however, offering to do just that. Great risk, does require great reward. Do you not believe this so?"

"I do." Morvis conceded begrudgingly, but countered, "Some rewards, however, are given away too frivolously for too little service. Do you not believe this is so?"

"Of course." Draco agreed. "Let me add this incentive for your consideration? As the sole heir to the not inconsiderable, Malfoy estate, I would be willing to fund certain future endeavors if the party in question does prove themselves worthy of my loyalty and support? Given that incentive and the fact that I am the one taking all the risk in this current venture, I believe my terms, though steep, are fair."

"You mentioned one other, what was it, "trifling" request? " Morvis sneered cautiously. He was obviously considering Draco's terms.

"Besides, Britain? Ah yes, as I said a trifling matter, barely worth mentioning? You see, I find myself in a precarious position. Though young, I am the last of my line and am in need of an heir. I thought that since I was going against the Weasley's anyway, I would much like to take with me a token of the experience, a trophy if you will?"

"Go on." Morvis prompted sounding somewhat intrigued.

"Well, I thought that perhaps I'd avail myself of Miss Ginevra Weasley's services in procuring my heir. She does have a fiery temper, but I think she could be brought to heel. She is a pureblood after all, and not entirely unattractive..?"

Morvis chuckled in agreement. "Done! I find your terms acceptable- both of them. Well played ,young master Draco, and may I say that I look forward to doing business with you in the future. You and your, er... heirs."

**Hogwarts- **

Harry's mood had improved along with his health, though he was still a bit too sullen for Pomfrey's liking. Though confident that he would eventually see the merit of her suggestion, she still was cautious not to "over stir" the cauldron as it were. Subtly was required .

"Alan., I have a proposition for you that I would like you to consider?"

The former Harry Potter now Alan Brandt, raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"If it involves my eminent departure from your merciful care then I'm all ears." He chided. She was pleased to find him in one of his better moods, but still she was not going to let him get away with any of his cheek, as she huffed indignantly. "You've never had it so good and you know it Al-laan." She drawled ,emphasizing her distaste for his continued charade. She wished she could take back her words when his face fell and he agreed softly.

"I can't argue you there."

"Now, Now, none of that. I've had quite enough of your brooding." she scolded him cheerily.

Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she continued. "Perhaps I know something that will brighten your spirits, though you usually claim disinterest? Charlie Weasley is returning home today. He'll need a few more weeks of rest, but, I'm quite confident that he will recover fully. If I know Molly Weasley, she'll have him fattened up and ready to wrestle dragons again by the end of the month."He snorted in spite of himself. "She'll definitely have him fattened up, and wrestling dragons will no doubt be preferable after several weeks of enduring constant "Molly-coddling"."

"Hmm, you wizards never do appreciate a good witch's, what did you call it, ah yes, 'tender mercies'. Which brings me back to the proposition I mentioned earlier?" She paused to make sure she had his attention.

He raised an eyebrow which she took as an invitation to continue.

"Ironically it seems that Charlie Weasley only remembers bits and pieces of the battle at the Dragon Reserve, but what he does remember,(before he blacked out), was hearing a familiar voice calling to him. Can you guess who's voice he claims to have heard, Al-lan?"

Harry's face paled considerably in suspicion.

She chose to draw upon his obvious discomfort and pushed on toward her goal." Ah, I see by your face that you suspect the answer, Al-lan, and you would be correct in your assumption. It would seem that as Charlie lay dying, he professes to have heard the voice of his dear departed friend, one Harry Potter. Apparently his departed friend was calling to him from the great beyond." She cast her hands into the air fluttering them for effect. "Fortunately, he and the rest of the Weasley's believe it to be just that- 'from the great beyond'. It would seem that Miss Granger believes that their deceased friend is now an angel; a guardian angel as it were. Apparently he's out there flying about, watching over his surrogate family." She fluttered her hands again, taking pleasure in seeing his grimace of disgust. "The Weasley's, as a whole readily, cottoned to this idea."

Harry's face turned a sickly shade of green as he considered the ramifications of Charlie having recognized his voice.

Pomfrey felt it was time to get to the heart of the matter." My reason for bringing this to your attention is quite simple really. Though you insist on maintaining this ridiculous charade, you have made a bit of a blunder, haven't you, Al-lan?"

"Obviously, Pom-freey." he drawled irritably. Mimicking her in return." Now the question is, what can be done about it, Pom-freey?"

She clapped her hands together in feigned excitement as she blurted." Why, I'm so glad you asked, Al-lan. Changing one's appearance is easily accomplished with a _glamour charm _or by use of _poly juice potion_, however those are temporary fixes at best and require a great deal of work and fuss to maintain the illusion. The way in which you accomplished the goal is of course a permanent fix, though why you'd let some muggle witch-doctor go to work on you with a scalpel and scissors, I'm sure I don't know?" she huffed incredulously.

Harry glowered at her and answered tersely. "It's not like I had a lot of choice at the time, what with being unconscious and all? Though it does appear to have worked out for the best,... in retrospect."

"Point taken." She conceded. "However, neither magic potions nor muggle surgery can or do have any affect on your vocal resonance. For all that you've changed, you still sound like Harry Potter. I suppose it was only a matter of time before you had a chance encounter with someone from your past, someone who may recognize your rather particular vocal pattern? That is why I propose a bit of magical reconstructive surgery on your vocal cords. It's a bit tricky, but I think I can manage it easily enough if you're game to let me try?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You can do that, change my voice?"

"Pfft." She waved her hand airily. "The procedure's a piece of cake, and by the way, you should see me bake some time? I make a pineapple upside down cake that'll knock your socks off... literally!"

"Can you,.. I mean, is it possible to…?" he began hopefully.

"Well, speak up sir, what's on your mind?" she prodded.

Harry fiddled with his hands, his eyes focused on his lap as he answered haltingly. "Well, I know.. it's not a priority or anything, but… could you, I mean ...is it possible to make me sound- better? You know, like for singing and stuff ?" he looked up with a hopeful, almost pleading expression on his face.

Poppy Pomfrey smirked at him knowingly as she nodded her head and promised. "When I'm done with you, you'll sound just like Celestina Warbeck."

Harry's face paled and he blurted in alarm."I don't want to sound like a famous singing witch!"

Pomfrey giggled reassuringly. "Oh, Harry, I mean Al-lan, that was just too easy. Do you think I'd give you a woman's voice, puh-lease! No worries."

She pulled out her wand from her arm and twirled it in her fingers as she approached his bed. "A little shaving here and there to smooth things out, and a charm or two should do it. I'll give you the voice of an angel- a male angel that is. Don't worry, you wont feel a thing."

Unconsciously pulling his covers up to ward off the advancing medi-witch. "Can I get ice cream afterward?" he asked nervously, sinking back into his pillows in a vain attempt to put distance between himself and the advancing witch.

"If you ask nicely, I may even make you my pineapple upside down cake, though that is a bit gritty and may not go down to easily? She grinned wickedly as she raised her wand. " Now just hold still for a bit, yes?"

Two days later saw Harry dressed in new robes of forest green, and ready to depart for home. Quidditch training for the second half of the season started tomorrow and he was sorely out of shape, (at least by his standards). He heard familiar voices whispering and giggling as Pomfrey and McGonagal entered the room.

Both wore identical mischievous grins on their faces, eyes twinkling merrily from some private joke, that was no doubt at his expense. McGonagal was holding a large oddly shaped package in her arms.

"All ready then? Ah, I must say those new robes look well on you."

"Yes, thank you. It wasn't necessary really, but thank you, both of you."

"Pish posh." Pomfrey waved him off. "We couldn't very well have sent you off in the cold wrapped up in one of our sheets. Those belong to Hogwarts after all." she finished with a smirk.

"I take it you feel that your up to leaving today?"

"Have to. Practice starts tomorrow, besides, the students are returning from holiday today. Even with the vocal change, I'd rather not risk encountering anyone from my past if I can help it."

"Hmm, as to that, I think I'd best do one last test of your voice?" Pomfrey said thoughtfully.

"Sure, what do you need me to do?" Harry ventured amicably.

"Minerva if you please?"

McGonagal stepped forward and offered the package she held to Harry. Her eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Open it."

He raised a questioning eyebrow as he took the proffered package from her. It's weight and shape felt strangely familiar now that he was holding the package in his own hands. Harry tore off the wrapping and was startled by what he found.

"Well, it's nice to see that we can still surprise our young friend, isn't it Poppy?" McGonagal chided.

The medi-witch nodded in agreement.

"I asked Fawkes to bring us something from your home, something that might make your stay here a bit more pleasant and help you pass the time. The silly bird just returned last evening with that in tow. Apparently it's mating season for phoenixes and he was a bit, er… distracted, as it were."

Harry's mouth hung open in grateful surprise as he ran his hands over the smooth finish of the guitar he had inherited from Sirius.

"I take it you can play?" Poppy asked incredulously. "I thought you might favor us with a song before you left? Talking is all well and good. Singing is a different story altogether. I'd like to see my work in action. If you please, Al-lan?" She nodded toward the guitar he held.

Harry paled a bit and seemed hesitant.

McGonagal knew the right motivation. "Despite all the obvious changes, you're still a Gryffindor aren't you?"

He pursed his lips, biting back a response as he considered the two elder witches standing before him. They were trying to hide their growing amusement behind strained looks of innocence. He sighed wearily and perched himself on the corner of McGonagal's bed with the guitar in his lap. He began to play the guitar. Hesitantly, at first, he began to sing, soon with growing confidence and volume as he continued and lost himself in the song. It was a muggle song about inspiration and hope. One that had the two witches not only pleasantly surprised, but with growing confidence that he was in a better place.

He finished his song and looked up hopefully from his guitar to get there reaction. His face fell at finding them both crying softly. McGonagal was dabbing at her eyes with the lace handkerchief she always carried. Pomfrey was rubbing her back soothingly as she swiped a hand across her own tear tracks.

"Um,.. sorry. It was that bad, huh?"

McGongal's face took on a strange questioning appearance. She looked at Pomfrey who grinned sheepishly back at her before she answered him.

"That, bad? Are you insane? My God! That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful,.. and your playing was exquisite. Poppy wasn't that just..?"

"Beautiful, yes. " Poppy confirmed. "I told you I can bake." She winked at Harry knowingly as he blushed back in response.

A brief uncomfortable silence followed before Harry sighed and said, " Well, I should be going."

Before either of them could say a word in return, he swept them both up in a fierce three way hug.

"I have no words to thank you, except this." he mumbled before kissing each of them on the cheek and swept out the door with his guitar in hand.

Moments later, a flash of lightning from the hallway, heralded his departure from Hogwarts.

"He really does a have a beautiful singing voice, Poppy. How did you manage that bit of magic?"

Poppy Pomfrey's face split in a wry grin. "I didn't do anything more than repair some old damage to his nasal passages and larynx that I discovered on my initial evaluation. It was probably the result of some old injury that the boy had long since forgotten. What we heard today was Harry's true voice. The boy never ceases to amaze, does he?"

"Indeed." Her friend agreed. "It's a pity to waste such talent on the pursuit of Quidditch." McGonagal sighed.

"At least he's happy Minerva. He's doing something he enjoys."

"Quidditch won't last forever, Poppy. What then? What if he's injured?"

Poppy shook her head sadly and answered her friend. "We both know that's the least of his concerns, Minnie. He'll never survive long enough to enjoy a full quidditch career and you know it. If the destruction Voldemort reaped upon him doesn't kill him first, the use of elemental magic will. The human body is simply not capable of harnessing that kind of power. Even the strongest wizard has his limits, and Harry went well beyond that when he rescued Charlie. Elemental travel all they way from Romania, and carrying along someone half again his size? I would have never imagined such a thing possible!" she snorted in disbelief.

McGonagal nodded her head as she thought over her friends words, then added. "It's like you've said many times before, Poppy,... the boy never ceases to amaze. I asked him about his pursuit of Earth Magic and he was surprisingly candid."

Poppy cocked an eyebrow and wait expectantly for a moment before huffing. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, Minnie, what did he say? Who's teaching him? How long has he been studying? Is this something Dumbledore started teaching him years ago?"

McGonagal smirked knowingly. "Actually, he found a book here, in our own Hogwart's library, that he's been studying out of. He started his pursuit of Earth Magic, oh say,.. about six months ago."

"Out of a book? Six months ago!" Pomfrey exploded in astonishment. "You're having me on? It took years of intense training for _Earth __Mages_ to become adept at the practice involving even a single branch of the four elements, and by all accounts he's using three of them already?"

McGonagal clucked her tongue and reiterated, "Out of a book and six months,…that's what he said. You know as well as I do that he never lies and modesty won't allow him to elaborate, so there you have it."

Pomfrey slumped wearily into a nearby chair and rubbed her temples as she muttered, " Six months, a book,.. and three elements already…?"

After a few moments her rambling subsided and she turned haunted accusing eyes on her friend. "And you just let him carry on with it?"

"Yes" her friend answered stoically, meeting her eyes with grim determination.

"Why, Minnie? You know why the pursuit of _Earth Magic _was discontinued." she accused. "They couldn't harbor such vast powers and ultimately it became there own doom. The power itself was seductive, intoxicating. All but the strongest gave into the craving for it. It nearly brought the extinction of the magical race. I thought all the old tomes that practiced _Earth Magic _had long since been destroyed, forbidden to the eyes of magic folk?"

"Apparently not." McGonagal confirmed. "I myself do not condone the pursuit of _elemental magic. _If it were anyone but, Harry…?" her voice drifted off before she organized her thoughts and explained further.

"Despite the fact that all you say is true,.. or in spite of it, to be precise. Like you, yourself, have just said, "none but the strongest" could wield such vast power and not give into the craving for it. Is that not the very description of Harry Potter? Is there anyone stronger in the magical world? Do you know of any one with a purer heart? His own heightened sense of nobility would never allow for him to abuse his powers and endanger the lives of the innocent. I can't help but think that he was meant to find that old tome on _Earth Magic_. I believe some wisdom greater than our own has looked down from the heavens and decided Harry Potter is worthy of this burden. Make no mistake, this is a burden. Perhaps one as great or even greater than was first placed upon the shoulders of that same young boy at the time of his birth when he was prophesized to be the _chosen one. _The one who could deliver us from Voldemort's evil."

Pomfrey lowered her face in her hands and snuffled softly, "It's not fair."

McGonagal nodded her head and pulled her handkerchief from her robes and began to dab at the moisture from her own eyes.

"No, it's not fair. It has never been fair where Harry was concerned. In all the world I can think of no one more deserving of peace and happiness. He managed to accomplish all that was expected of him and rid the world of a great evil. What was his reward for that inconceivable undertaking; the very evil he fought so valiantly against now stains his own soul and corrupts his inherent magic. He has been crippled, and worse. His family,... his friends,… and the love of his life, have all been stripped away from him. One could argue that this was done by his own doing, but what choice had he really? At best they would have nothing more to hope for than to see him die comfortably amongst them. At worst, he could endanger them all. Denied the use of his own magic, Harry has turned to the one avenue still open to him. What an odd coincidence he should discover an instructional tome for _Earth Magic_? Coincidence? HA!" she snorted. "I find that very unlikely. No, I believe some higher power is at work here. One that I pray with all my heart, will allow him the happiness he so richly deserves once he's fulfilled whatever task the fates have yet in store for our young friend."

"But, Minnie, there must be something we can so for him?" Pomfrey asked hopefully as she wiped at her eyes.

"There is." she confirmed. "We can help his family find him. He needs and deserves their love and more than ever."

Pomfrey's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "We can't tell them, Minnie, we promised him. Surely you're not going back on your word? He'd never trust us again."

"Who said anything about breaking our oaths?" she asked incredulously. " Poppy, I'm surprised you would even consider me capable of such a thing?"

"Well then, what did you have it in mind to do?" Pomfrey snapped irritably.

"Do?" She asked feigning puzzlement. "I intend to do nothing. Which is exactly what I've done since our young friend imparted to me that he's begun to master the ability of empathic communication. He is not only able to touch on the feelings of others , but is able to recognize their distinct empathic signature. I dare say it was this ability that assisted him in locating Charlie Weasley amongst all that destruction at the Dragon Reserve."

Pomfrey's eyebrows knit in puzzlement. "I don't follow. How will this help reunite him with his friends?"

"It wont, but it's certainly the catalyst. As I said I'm keeping my word and keeping my silence. Along those lines, I didn't bother to tell our young friend that when he establishes an empathic link with someone that it often goes both ways. Not only will he be able to feel their emotions and recognize their specific empathic signature, but they will be able to recognize his empathic feelings and signature as well. Now the only question is; just how long will it be before the boy's own natural empathy and sense of curiosity gets the better of him and he establishes a link with one of the Weasley's or even Miss Granger? Do you follow?"

Pomfrey's eyes went wide in sudden excitement and understanding as she blurted. "Oh,... Oh, I see! Oh,my?" her voice trailed off as she considered the possible ramifications .

"Oh my, indeed. I see you've begun to imagine what could possibly happen once Harry establishes and empathic link with someone he cares for? Someone who would also care for and recognizes his unique character in return? They'll be on to him in a heartbeat, especially if it's someone like Molly Weasley or Miss Granger. Can you even begin to imagine the lengths that either of those two formidable witches will go to find him and bring him home once they know he's still alive? Their initial shock, at learning of his continued existence would soon turn to joy. Once the joy has passed ,however, anger at being duped into believing this horrific lie will follow. 'Oh my, indeed'! I'm afraid that there's no disguise nor hiding place on this Earth ,that will shelter him from their wrath once that occurs."


	15. Chapter 15: I Have no Empathy for You

**Disclaimer. I own nothing of the Harry Potter Characters. **

**Chapter Fifteen: I Have No Empathy For You **

"Come on, Sanders. Is that the best you can do? I was told that you were skilled, adept even, at the arts. I find your skills somewhat wanting." he sneered in disdain. Infuriating his opponent, as was his plan.

Richard Sanders threw himself into the fray. Their swords crossed once, twice, thrice, followed by a sickly wet **thunk**_ , _as the victor's blade slammed home into his dying opponents gut.

"Ugh,.. urrgg..!" Richard Sanders gasped as he tried uselessly to stem the flow of his blood as his precious life force gushed from his ruined body.

"Oh, do make an end of it already." his opponent chided without the slightest hint of empathy.

" Must you bleed all over the floors? The elves will clean it up, of course, but even they deserve better than to have to mop up a squib's juices. Still, I suppose it's better than having to dispose of that unfortunate muggle from last week? The fool didn't last three minutes. I must say, you're the best I've faced so far, but as always; I've proved I'm the best." Draco Malfoy gloated down at his dying opponent.

"The... Best? No.. not by… a ..long ...shot..." Sanders croaked out as he struggled to remain coherent.

"What? What's this? Blood loss has obviously addled your mind?" Draco answered in outrage.

"I-I've .. Seen…t-the .. b..best. I've trained… him.. fought him... you're not him. Not…by.. h-half-f-f…." he rasped out, every word a struggle for air.

"Who are you talking about? Tell me you wretch? Tell me and I'll put you out of your misery." Malfoy grinned coldly as he lowered the point of his saber to Sander's throat.

Richard Sanders slumped to the runway floor, his blood pooling beneath him as it spread and covered the beech wood flooring of the fencing cell. With his last strength he pulled his money pouch from his waist ,where it was tied on, and flung it at Malfoy's feet.

"Take your money back." he spat with renewed vigor. " I don't want it, not even in death. You cheated. I drew blood three times,... the match was mine. You were only able to make your thrust because I lowered my guard. I was foolish enough to believe you would desist and honorably acknowledge my victory."

Malfoy's eyes blazed . "You dare question my honor? What third cut?" His hands began to search his body in earnest.

"I have no…?" his voice trailed off as his hands found the growing patch of wetness on his left rib cage. He pulled his fingers up to find them covered with blood. _Three,..__ It was three_**_._** _One cut to his left fore arm, his right thigh, and finally his left rib. Three cuts. Sanders had bloodied him three times._

Malfoy pulled his wand from it's sheath at his waist and began to mumble a _healing charm. Perhaps there was still time to save his opponent. _He thought dismally.

His hope to salvage his own heightened sense of honor and false nobility died along with his opponent as he gazed down into the now lifeless eyes of Richard Sanders.

Malfoy spat vehemently, cursing himself for his loss of focus and control. Now, by his own hand, he had sullied his own reputation. He knelt at Richard Sanders side in silent prayer, oblivious to the blood as it soaked into the knees of his own trousers.

"I beg your forgiveness." he intoned respectfully. "I have dishonored myself. You were correct, it was three. Your blade was so swift I never even felt it or registered your pass. You have my deepest respects and my word that I will see to it that your family is provided for. They will not suffer hardship for my mistake. I swear this on my life, wand and sword."

"Tully?" Draco shouted into the empty room.

A small 'pop' and a cowering elf was kneeling before Draco, trembling in fear.

"Master?" The elf groveled. "Shall I dispose of the body as I did the last?"

"Certainly not." Draco answered darkly. "You will clean his body and return him to his family along with fifty thousand galleons. Every year on this date, they are to receive a like sum- anonymously. Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes, master." the elf quaked. " B-But for how many years shall I deliver the money, sir?"

Draco looked down on the pale, bloodless face of Richard Sanders. The man could have been no more than thirty five yrs., though it was difficult to gauge due to the man's excellent physical conditioning.

"Fifty Years!" Draco commanded. "Not a year less, even if I should pass in that time, see that it is done for the fifty years in it's entirety."

"I-It shall be as you command, master." The elf simpered as he bowed from the room.

Draco withdrew his blade from Sander's corpse and set his mind about cleaning the blood from it, when he remembered something that had slipped his mind, Sander's dying pronouncement.

_I've seen the best, .. trained him,.. fought him... you're not him,.. not by half ! _Malfoy repeated the words over in his head. _Who could Sander's have meant? Pah, he was probably just trying to frighten me. A last thrust at his opponent. A feeble attempt to haunt my mind after his passing. With Sander's gone, though I didn't earn it honorably, by default- I'm now the best with a blade._

Harry paced the floor of his country kitchen. His mind was as troubled now as it had been the day he'd shown up for his personal training session with Rick Sanders, only to find his instructor having died the previous day in what was described as 'an unfortunate dueling mishap'. 'Mishap' didn't even enter into the equation. Rick Sander's was a master of the sword, and many other forms of self defense, but for all of that, he was a cautious man, not given to making mistakes.

_The only thing unfortunate about all of this is that some malicious bastard had gotten away with murder_.

Whoever was responsible was good, very good, to have killed Sander's with a sword. As far as he knew there were only a few people in Britain that were that adept with a sword; himself being one.

Though Harry had only studied and trained less than a year, he had spent nearly two or even three times the amount of time that most students normally spent on practicing. He had found himself to have a natural propensity when it came to the martial arts. Besides, he had the time to devote to training,... _what else was there for him to do? _Quidditch only took up so many hours in the day and he found himself growing more and more lonely over the past several months.

He craved human contact , but, adamantly denied himself that which he sorely needed. He had learned to dull the edge of his lonely despair by keeping himself in a perpetual state of fatigue. Long hours of quidditch and training in both the martial arts and _Earth Magic _kept his mind occupied, and for the most part sane, though tired.

The funeral for Rick Sanders had been two days ago. It was a private family gathering, for which he had been grateful of an invitation via Minerva McGonagal, Sander's aunt. McGonagal was in high spirits throughout the wake, but her eyes betrayed her outward courageous front. She was deeply saddened by the loss of her nephew. Though Rick Sanders had been born a squib, he was held in high esteem by his mostly magical family.

McGongal had made Harry feel welcome in her family's home. She took it upon herself to introduce him ,as Alan Brandt, to all the members of her family. They had been very kind and had made him and many other close friend's of Rick's, feel comfortable and welcome. Sander's had left behind a loving wife, Becky, and two young daughters, Rachel and Carla. They were both born magical and would attend Hogwarts one day. McGonagal vowed she would live to see them graduate,… and their children's children, if she had any say in the matter? For the life of him, he couldn't imagine Minerva McGonagal as ever not having her say.

After the funeral services commenced, Harry walked McGonagal back to an apparation point near the cemetery so she could return to Hogwarts. She had presented him with the gift of a gold necklace with a little golden snitch charm on it, that he now wore around his neck. He had been shocked at the time, berating her for having spent her hard earned gold on him at a time of family crisis such as this. She looked appraisingly at him and smiled mischievously before answering back.

"Don't be a bloody twit, Harry. I taught transfiguration for thirty years. I certainly can fashion a necklace easily enough. By the way,.. that was really a dung beetle originally."

"A dung beetle?" Harry pulled a face.

"Spare me. It's not just for show, it's a _portkey_. Just activate it and it will take you directly to Hogwarts infirmary. I dare say you'll find it useful, what with your propensity at finding mischief. Mainly, I'd like to avoid any further episodes of 'apparating' or what ever you call that mode of transportation you use, that allows you to break through Hogwarts wards. I'd also rather avoid any future dramatic, 'thunder claps', that herald your arrival. The resulting shockwave made a mess of my office and Poppy's still trying to sort out her potions cupboard."

"Thanks." He offered sarcastically in return, then thought better of it and amended with, "Ah,.. thanks, it was very thoughtful of you. What's the activation phrase for it?"

Her eyes twinkled merrily as she answered. "One I think you should be able to remember; 'Puddlemere takes the cup!'" She winked cheekily and before apparating away.

"Puddlemere?.. Bloody hell." Harry grumbled as he walked off .

**Hogwarts**

Student's were anxiously anticipating the last Hogsmeade visit for the term. It was set for the first Saturday of April and would be followed a week later by Easter was looking forward to spending time with Hermione tomorrow. Between an endless pile of homework, revising for NEWTs and quidditch, he had found precious little time to spend with his girlfriend.

Hermione was in full study mode, but at least she had reluctantly agreed to put school work behind and enjoy her time with his family at the Burrow. Luckily, her family was off visiting her mother's sister abroad and wouldn't be returning till after the holidays. Just one more week and he'd have the bushy haired beauty all to himself, that is if he could keep Fred and George out of the picture- _annoying gits._

Having some spare quiet time whilst Hermione finished her paper for Arithimancy, Ron paged through this week's copy of Quidditch Weekly. He'd already read through it twice but he couldn't get enough of reading about his favorite team, the Chuddly Cannons. The Cannon's were poised to enter the playoffs for the fist time in the past two centuries, and only the second time in history. Everyone already knew this bit of trivia, seeing as how he'd told anyone who'd listen, at least a dozen times!

Ron paused over a picture of the Cannon's star seeker, thinking for the hundredth time that the man reminded him of someone, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Ginny entered the common room, distracting him from his contemplation.

"Hey, Ginny. You going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He asked innocently.

His sister's hackles rose unexpectedly as she planted her hands on her hips and huffed indignantly, "Collin and I are going, but just as friend's, Ronald Weasley. So I don't want you going off in 'big brother' mode and frightening him. We're just friends!"

Ron held up his hands placating fashion. "Hey, sorry. I was just asking. I was gonna invite you along with 'Mione and me, if you didn't have any plans?"

Hermione continued to write feverishly on her report but managed to huff out in exasperation.

"My name is Hermione, Ronald, not 'Mione."

In retrospect, he could have chosen his words more carefully. He considered this possibility in various states of embarrassment as Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly whilst she tended to the abundance of _stinging hexes _he'd received to his nether regions. He'd only asked his sister and girlfriend innocently, _"Do all witches get their monthly's at the same time?" _

The next thing he knew he was in the infirmary with his pants down around his knees while Madam Pomfrey dabbed at his backside with diluted _bubotuber pus _and remarked nonchalantly that, " _By the angle of impacts on his various 'bits', he would have had to been hexed from at least a dozen different wands."_

**Chudley **

"You wanted to see me skipper?"

"Yeah, Alan. Thanks for dropping by. I wanted to let you know that I've scheduled a fitting for 'team dress robes' for you in Hogsmeade tomorrow. I took the liberty of scheduling it for late in the afternoon. That way it wont interfere with practice, but more importantly, it avoids a lot of contact with your adoring fans since Hogwarts has planned a student visit to the town on Saturday as well. I know how you hate that sort of celebrity rubbish, but hey, without the fans they're wouldn't be a league in the first place."

Harry/ Alan did his best to school his features to try and hide his growing anxiety. _Hogsmeade with students, ie... Weasleys and Granger!_

"I... er, thanks skipper, but couldn't I go another day, or use my own tailor?"

"Sorry, Alan, but it's got to be tomorrow. The teams scheduled for a photo shoot of this year's playoff teams, set first thing next week. It's sort of blind sided us as we've never been in this position before,… going to the play offs, that is. Thanks to our star seeker, we've got a hand in it this year!"

"Nah, it wasn't just me. The whole team's really pulled together. I've been very fortunate for the opportunity and I'm grateful." Harry/ Alan answered modestly.

Coach Reeve's narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "Grateful enough to sign a long term contract with Chudley?"

Alan/Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "I- I thought you said when I signed on it would just be for the season and we'd have to see how it goes? You said that you couldn't promise anything more?" he countered.

"That was then, this is now." His coach answered flatly. " Look , I'm not gonna mince any words here. At the time you were an unknown, Alan,.. a long shot. One, I'm pleased to say has paid off in spades. We're not going to waste any time looking anywhere else. You're our man, Alan. As far as Chudley's concerned you're our franchise player."

" I..I don't know what to say? It's...well, it's a lot to think about?" Harry/Alan stammered in delighted surprise.

The coach pushed himself forward in his chair and pressed further.

"What's to think about? If it's a matter of the money, I can assure you that we consider you and Viktor Krum the two best in the business and if we can't have Krum, than we damn sure want you and we're willing to pay accordingly."

Harry waved him off. He wanted to jump at the chance to play quidditch for the rest of his life. The question that hung over his head was; _Just how long was the rest of his life? _

He couldn't sign a long term contract as that wouldn't really be fair to the team as he might not live long enough to honor the agreement and he didn't want to leave the rest of his mates hanging. He would have to placate the coach for now and bide his time.

"It's not the money, Skipper. I'm sure management will pay whatever's fair. It's just that, well,.. I don't really know how long I can promise to play? I've got some...ah, personal matters that are kind of hanging over me and I'm not really free to promise anything long term. Let's just finish out this season and see where it goes? After the play offs are finished, I'll see where I stand with my personal business and I'll give you my answer then. If you decide to go with someone else in the mean time, I'll understand and move on quietly."

That last bit caught coach Reeve's off guard and put him on instant defense. "Nonsense, take all the time you need. I've stated our position and I meant it. You're our man, Alan. The job's yours for however long you want it. Just let me know what you decide, as soon as you decide it, okay?"

"Thanks, skipper. I appreciate it. What times my appointment for the fitting tomorrow and where?"

"It's at Gladrags. The appointment time is set for 4 pm, just before closing. The students should be heading back to Hogwarts by that time. Don't worry if you're recognized. It's no big deal if you don't let it get out of hand. Just sign an autograph or two and move on, you'll probably make some kid's day."

" Yeah, ah,.. thanks skipper." Harry hurriedly shook his coach's hand and again, stammered his, ' thanks for the contract offer', before he left. He shook his head worriedly as he left the Cannon's practice facility muttering to himself about his ruddy luck of having to be in Hogsmeade on the same day as a Hogwarts outing.

**Hogsmeade **

It was times like this that made him long for his father's old invisibility cloak. Student's were supposed to be back to Hogwarts by 4pm. Here it was 3:40pm and he'd already been accosted for autographs three times. He even suffered through one young witch's overtures of a more carnal nature, and she was only a third year! Unfortunately, Gladrags was on the north side and he had been forced to 'lightning jump' to the south side to be less conspicuous. McGonagal was right; a 'thunder clap' in the middle of a cloudless day did draw unwanted attention. He'd arrived in a secluded locale, but was now forced to have to make his way from one end of the village to the other.

Harry/Alan had briefly considered utilizing his hard learned camouflaging abilities. The spell did not render one invisible like a _disillusionment charm _did, but instead, it shaded him in such a way that he blended into his surroundings, much like a chameleon. The only problem was, like the rest of Earth Magic's stringent parameters, it required living matter, ie... it didn't work on his clothing. He decided against using the spell as he couldn't very well arrive at Gladrags totally starkers.

Ducking in and out of alleyways as he made his way through the village had thus far not proven an effective, if time consuming, stealth technique. Harry finally made it to Gladrags, with a minute to spare before his scheduled appointment. The clerk could not have been more efficient, although the young witch did giggle every so often and cast shy glances his way. She was a rather attractive girl with short blond hair and a petite frame, but he soon dismissed any ideas of seeking a date. He wasn't free to consider a close relationship with anyone, and besides, he would always be hopelessly in love with a certain red headed witch. Sirius had been right, Potter men all fell for red heads and they only loved once. Thankfully, the young witch finished quickly and assured him his dress robes would be sent to the Cannons facility in time for the team's photo shoot next week. He left her with a somewhat disappointed frown as he hurriedly stammered his thanks and all but bolted from the shop.

Harry/Alan made his way discretely toward the south end of the village. Though no students were in eyesight, he knew he'd feel better once he was safely home. The Shrieking Shack was just ahead, a painful reminder of his first having met his Godfather. Those were happier times. Even with Sirius on the run from the Ministry and Voldemort rising to power, he still had his friends. He pulled himself from his lonely thoughts. It would serve no purpose to dwell on the past.

Harry rounded the corner of Rumpolt St. and froze in his tracks, his head cocked to the side- listening intently.

_Nothing,.. it must have been the wind, or maybe the Shrieking Shack really was haunted?_ he thought snickering.

The smile left his face and turned to cold dread when he heard an muffled voice cry out from the alley way to his left.

The voice was familiar, all too familiar, and at first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Then he heard it again, only now more desperate. "No, Collin! Run ! Get help!"

_Ginny! _

Harry made for the alleyway and just managed to dive out of the way when a barrage of sickly familiar green streaks of light flew his way. He heard a struggle in the distance, men cursing , more green streaks flew by,... followed a dull **thud**.

He knew that sound all too well from the war, it was the sound of a body falling. A scream of anguish rent the air as Harry scrambled to his feet and bolted for the alleyway.

He followed the voices through the darkened alley, praying he wouldn't be too late. Half way thru the alleyway he stumbled and fell, bruising his knees and palms in the process. He looked back to see what he had tripped over, fearing he already new the answer? He turned to find himself staring into the blank, unseeing eyes of Collin Creevey.

Many people had questioned the sorting hat's choice of putting Collin in Gryffindor House. Harry knew better. Collin was a true Gryffindor. He'd given his life to try and save Ginny. He murmured a soft epitaph to his dead friend before charging back down the alleyway.

Harry broke free of the alley way and rounded the corner of Rumpolt. He pulled up short as he took in the scene in front of him: Two large red cloaked wizards were dragging a spitting and kicking Ginny Weasley toward the Shrieking Shack , whilst a third smaller wizard tried to force the iron gateway open, ahead of them.

He couldn't risk _elemental magic _at this range, not without harming Ginny. Silently cursing himself for not having the foresight to carry and edged weapon, he made his decision..

_No weapons, no magic.. except…? _

He ducked into the alley from which he'd arrived and tore his clothing off. He prayed silently that he would be in time.

The cool night air rose gooseflesh all over his exposed body. Harry was oblivious to the cold as he concentrated and began pulling energy into himself. His image blurred and melded into the background- _like a chameleon_.

A heart beat later he was on the move.

The rough cobblestones gouged and tore at his bare feet. The pain only hardened his resolve. He was nearly upon the struggling trio, when the larger of her kidnappers pulled up with a grunt of pain, "Argg! The little bitch bit me!" he bellowed.

"I'd kill you if I still had my wand, you bastard !" Ginny spat back, kicking out at the man she'd bit. The other wizard pulled her back from her intended target. While the second man restrained her elbows, the larger wizard swore at her and clouted her on the side of her head. Ginny went limp and fell from the second wizard's grasp.

Harry's fear for her turned to cold fury as he flowed into her attackers.

Harry leapt into the air and brought the edge of his foot down with all his weight behind it. His kick hit the soft tissue behind the larger wizard's knee. The man cried out in pain and outrage as he fell backward, right into Harry's waiting arms. Harry caught the man by his head, tilted his chin up and back, with a quick wrench, he broke his opponent's neck cleanly.

Harry had learned in the last war that incapacitating your enemy was an exercise in futility. All too often; the stunned wizard was revived and rejoined the fight, perhaps wounding or even killing one of your friends or family in the process. He'd given up romantic notions of chivalrous combat long ago. These men had killed Collin and kidnapped Ginny, for what intent he could only shudder in contemplating. No, he would show them no mercy, for they would surely show him none in return.

Harry let the dead wizard fall from his hands and was already positioning himself to strike at the second man .

Alarmed by his comrade's sudden cry of shock, the smaller of the two wizard's abandoned his attempt to pick up Ginny's unconscious form from the cobbled street. He pulled his wand from his scarlet robes and turned toward the disruption. He caught the barest outline of something moving behind the falling form of his,... now dead comrade.

"What the f...! _Sectum sepr_...ughh!" His curse died on his lips.

Harry caught his wrist in a vice like grip and twisted before slamming the palm of his hand into the man's now isolated elbow. A frightening "POP", announced the dislocation of the man's elbow joint as the man's arm folded backward, away from his torso. His wand fell uselessly, from nerveless fingers.

The masked wizard no doubt would have screamed in agony, if Harry's fingers hadn't first drove deeply into the soft tissue of his throat. The wizard collapsed to his knees making a high pitched wheezing sound as his lungs screamed with the effort of trying to pull air through a throat that was already blocked by the dying man's blood.

**Creeeek-Bang **

The iron gate slammed open behind him as the third wizard attempted to come to the, _too late,_ rescue of his fallen friends.

"What the Bloody Hell!" He cursed as he began to fire off curses blindly.

Harry turned just as a _cutting hex _tore through his right shoulder. Blood flew from his shoulder and Harry swore under his breath.

The last of Ginny's assailant's narrowed his eyes cunningly. He'd seen the spray of blood and his wand was now tracking Harry's quick approach.

Harry knew he'd only have one chance at this. If he blew it, he was dead, and Ginny was as good as. He threw himself into a forward somersault, just as the green light of a _killing curse _streaked by over head, missing him by a hair's breath. He bit back on a hiss of pain as his exposed back scrapped cruelly across the cobbled street. Finishing his roll perfectly, Harry catapulted upward driving his fist between the wizards legs with every ounce of his considerable strength.

"Urmff,.. ugh…ghaaa! The man moaned and gurgled.

The injured man dropped his wand to the cobbled street in favor of clutching futilely at his ruined groin.

_If the man was not a father, he never would be, _Harry thought grimly_._

He ached to finish the bastard. It wouldn't bring Collin back, but there wouldn't be another 'Collin' to kill in the man's future, either. He decided he needed information more than anything else.

"Why" He intoned flatly. More than a hint of menace in his voice.

The wizard was hunched over in agony, but managed to look up . His eyes were vacant and glazed over with pain, but he'd heard and understood his camouflaged opponent. He refused to answer by spitting a gob of blood on the cobbles and shaking his head 'no'

Harry's strained patience was already dangerously thin. He wouldn't afford the scum any more leeway. "Talk, and I'll let you live... such as you are."

"T-The pain,.. mer…cyyy.." the man begged for release.

Harry cocked his head to one side and considered for the briefest of moments before answering stoically. "You killed Collin. You meant harm to her... and worse. For this, I have no empathy for you. If you will not talk, then I'm content to let you suffer. Once I grow bored with you, well,… let's just say that your dead friends and you will soon be reunited."

The man's eyes widened in fear from behind his mask, before they turned despairing and resolute. He began to gurgle and Harry had thought him choking before he realized the wizard was laughing through his pain. The wizard plunged his hand into his robes and pulled out a gleaming silver blade. Harry moved to intercept the thrust he felt sure was coming.

To his surprise, the wizard turned the blade on himself and plunged it 'hilt deep' into his own chest. The man's eyes rolled up into his head and with a last gasp, he pitched forward. He was dead before he hit the cobbled street.

"Fanatical scum" Harry hissed at the fallen form. _Well, let's see if your identity can at least provide some answers. _He reached out and plucked the mask from the dead man's face- _Marcus Flint_. No surprise there, he was always a Death Eater wannabe. Now he could join Voldemort's gang- in hell.

Harry trotted back to the smaller of the two wizards he'd dispatched and removed his mask,... Vincent Crabbe's dead eyes stared back at him.

_I'm beginning to see a pattern here._

The last of the dead scarlet robed assailants turned out to be… Gregory Goyle.

_All three had one thing in common: They were the bully boys for one, Draco Malfoy. _

A soft groan to his left caught his attention.

_Damn me for a total idiot,... Ginny_! _Of all the stupid things to do. How could he have forgotten her whilst he played auror? _He condemned himself as he ran to her fallen form.

Ginny had a dark bruise forming on her jaw, which appeared to be slightly out of alignment.

_That bastard Goyle broke her jaw! _

Of more concern was the large bump above her right temple . _She must have hit her head against the cobbles when she fell._ She moaned again softly. It sounded like she whispered something? A name..?

Harry lowered his ear to her mouth and listened intently.

A few moment's later she said it again…"Col-linnn"

He pulled back from her fallen form in anger.

_What did he expect her to say? What could he expect? He was out of her life. A dead man to her mind and ,thanks to his former friends,… a blank spot in her soul_.

Only moments passed since he'd knelt beside her injured form, but to him it felt hours. If he were visible anyone would see a storm of emotions raging through his eyes. Anger, jealousy, regret, desolation and finally... love. He looked down at her battered face and saw only the woman that held his heart in her hand, although she was blissfully unaware of it.

Her lovely long coppery locks framed her petite face. A sprinkling of freckles danced across her button of a nose. Her lips, though swollen, still looked warm and inviting. He wished fleetingly that she were awake so that he could gaze into her tender, chocolate brown eyes, one last time. Another soft moan escaped her lips. Harry shook himself from his wasted thoughts of what may have been. She needed medical attention, now. She needed to get back to Hogwarts and Madam Pomfrey's care.

Harry ran back to his clothes and retrieved the _golden snitch portkey necklace _that McGonagal had given him after Sander's funeral. He rummaged through his garments and withdrew a quill, but the only parchment he had to write with was the receipt from his robe fitting.

_It would have to suffice_.

He scrawled a quick note to Pomfrey and knotted a length of his necklace around it. Harry left his clothes for later, Ginny needed medical attention and he had wasted too much time day dreaming as it was.

His body was beginning to shiver violently from the cold. The surge of adrenaline he'd experienced had seen him through the fight, but now his body was succumbing to the chill night air. He knelt beside Ginny and, mindfully careful of her jaw, placed the necklace,(with the note attached), over her head and around her neck.

In a moment of weakness, Harry brushed his lips across her swollen ones and whispered,

"I love you- _Portus activus,_ Puddlemere takes the cup."

In a blink of the eye, she was gone. Harry slumped to the cold cobbles and wept bitter tears of sorrow and regret.

Poppy Pomfrey was working at her desk when she heard a loud "POP!"

She looked up to find, "GinnyWeasley! What? How in the world,... Har...?" She broke off her words and looked around nervously, worried that someone may have over heard. The one patient she had was snoring quietly from his bunk.

She rushed to Ginny's pale form and ran her wand over the injured girl to do a quick diagnostic scan.

_A concussion, scalp laceration and a broken jaw,.. the poor dear. She'll be fine. _

Noticing the amount of blood she had on her robes, Pomfrey ran her wand down the length of the girl's body and frowned worriedly at the results listed on her wand's diagnostic.

_Not her blood. What's that boy done to himself this time?_

Spying what should have been- _Harry's_ _portkey_ _necklace _around the girl's neck. Pomfrey lifted the necklace to find a note knotted into the chain. She pulled the note from the chain and read:

**_ -Ginny attacked. _**

"Really, I would have never guessed." She huffed indignantly, before reading on.

**-_Collin Creevey's dead... He died a hero trying to save her._**

The blood drained from Pomfrey's face and tears formed at her eyes. _Collin was always such a sweet boy. s_he thought, as a tear fell onto the note whilst she read further:

**_-Ginny's attackers- dead. Near Shrieking Shack. Collin's body is in alleyway off of Rumbolt St._**

_**-They were dressed like the same bunch that attacked Charlie in Romania.**_

**_-I'm okay,.. don't worry. _**

**_ A-H_**


	16. Chapter 16: My Empathy, My Mistake

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters**

**Chapter Sixteen: My Empathy, My Mistake**

An hour later saw the Hogwart's infirmary filled with red headed visitors , Hermione Granger and Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of the Auror Division of the M.L.E. The Weasely brothers ,for their part, were all talking at once. The infirmary was filled with the sounds of; vociferous threats of retribution against parties unknown and vows to increase security at home as well as seeing to Ginny's safety as her personal body guard.

Molly Weasley was sobbing quietly at Ginny's bedside, whilst Arthur alternated between comforting his wife and scolding his unruly sons into some semblance of order. Ron sat stoically on the other side of Ginny's bed , her pale hand clutched tightly in his own. His knuckles were white from squeezing too hard, a fact that he was unaware of until his girl friend pointed out that he was," breaking Ginny's hand." He relaxed his grip with a mumbled, "sorry", but did not release her hand. Hermione remained behind Ron, rubbing his back comfortingly and murmuring reassurances in his ear, him nodding every once in a while, but saying nothing, just staring at his sister's unconscious form.

Minerva McGonagal waited patiently off to the side with a faint traces of a smile on her face. She was waiting for the explosion to come and she didn't have long to wait.

"Enough!" Madam Pomfrey bellowed bringing instant silence to the room. All eyes turned to her as she vented her rage. "For the love of Merlin's wand, this is a hospital, not a pub! Ginny is going to be fine, other than waking with a terrible headache in the morning. The pain of which will have no doubt been compounded by all this bickering. I for one, feel the beginnings of a real head splitter coming on, no thanks to you lot. Kingley, if you've come looking for a statement it will have to wait for tomorrow. Even you can see that Ginevra is in no condition at present. If you've come to deliver some bit of news as to what transpired tonight, than by all means let's hear it?"

"What? Well, I don't really have the ,er,... authority. This is .ah,. personal ministry business and all.?" The man stuttered, embarrassed by the attention suddenly thrust upon him. He regained some of his composure and continued. "I could perhaps tell Author, seeing as how he's a supervisor and all? he offered consolingly, in a face saving gesture.

Pomfrey clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Personal business, indeed?" she quipped "I've seen the lot of you starkers over the years. I've treated the lot for one injury or another. Personal business? It doesn't get much more personal than that. We're all the same underneath. Though some of you aren't quite ,er... identical." She cocked an eyebrow knowingly at the twins, who both went crimson in embarrassment.

Arthur Weasley smirked at his two son's discomfort. Poppy Pomfrey was one of the few individuals that could usually get the measure of his twin mischief makers. He sighed contently and cleared his throat before commenting. "You might as well tell the lot, Kingsley. I'll tell them after you've left anyway."

"All right, all right." Kingsley raised his hands in request for patience.

"As you all know, Collin Creevey is dead by the _killing curse. _We found his body in an alleyway near the Shrieking Shack. We also found three dead, scarlet robed wizards that had been wearing masks, but the masks were removed by party or parties unknown. The dead wizards are the persons of, Marcus Flint, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Their family's and the Family of Collin Creevey are currently being notified by ministry liaisons."

"Malfoy's goons?" Fred spoke up, saying what was on everyone in the room's mind. "If that lot was involved, you can be sure that he's behind it."

"Though I doubt he actually got his hands dirty, the little ferret." George put in.

" What say we pay the ferret a visit , my brother? Catch up with an old school chum and all that rot." Fred offered.

"Splendid idea. I've always fancied a visit to Malfoy Manor. I hear they've got all sorts of delicate antiquities on display. Some of the works are rather priceless, I'm told."

"Really?" Fred was bouncing on his heels excitedly. "I love art. I used to know an Art. Great chap, but not much to look at. We used to call him Art's Inna."

"Art's Inna?" Kingsley was thick enough to ask.

"Yeah, you know." the twins chorused together. "Arts inna eye of the beholder!"

Snickers enveloped the room.

"Well tootles! We're off to the Malfoy's for a visit." Fred waved cheekily.

" ..and a bit of retribution." his twin chimed in as they glided toward the door.

"After we get a full confession, of course?" Fred inquired sheepishly.

"Of course." his brother confirmed, rolling his eyes in feigned indignation. "You know me... I'm all about following the rules."

"Boys." Mr. Weasley said in a warning voice, glaring at his twin sons.

"I'm sorry ,father" Fred began innocently. "Did you wish to come?"

The merest hint of a smirk etched his features before he stiffened slightly and answered. "Thank you, no. That wont be necessary. I would appreciate it if you would see your mother safely home. Bill and I will be going to the Creevey's to pay our respects."

His eldest son nodded curtly his agreement, but Arthur Weasley could tell by the glint in his eyes that he would have much rather accompanied the now, crestfallen twins, on their previously posed venture.

"Ron,.." Arthur turned his attention on his youngest son and his significant other. "I would feel a lot better if you and Hermione would remain her for tonight and keep an eye on Ginny. If she's well enough to travel tomorrow? Then, I'd like you three to floo home to the Burrow."

Ron lifted his moist eyes and nodded to his father.

Arthur Weasley's heart clenched on seeing all the emotions that raged within his youngest son's deep blue eyes, ie... pain, anger, fear, resolve and lastly- love. He was very proud of the man his son was becoming and would make it a point to tell him so once this crisis had past.

"Hermione?" Arthur Weasley inquired .

"What? Oh, yes, yes of course. We'll let you know if anything changes."

Hermione had been deep in thought .Ginny's blood stained sweater was held tightly in her fist. Some of the blood ,she knew, was Ginny's. Some of it ,she suspected, was not. First Charlie, now Ginny. Another mysterious rescue of a Weasley in danger. Coincidence? Doubtful.

Her mind raced with a blend of impossibly logical scenarios to explain the circumstances of Ginny's rescue. She discounted each as quickly as it had occurred. Mr. Weasley's request had caught her off guard, but, it was a welcome distraction from her troubling thoughts. She couldn't be sure, but she thought for an instant that she saw Headmistress McGonagal give her an encouraging wink. It was almost as if the professor had somehow gleaned the unsettling direction in which her thoughts had drifted prior to the interruption.

_She's still holding Ginny's blood stained sweater_. _I think _s_he's caught on to it? There's a mystery here alright. _Minerva McGonagal winked encouragingly at Hermione Granger from across the room. _Clever girl! You keep working at it, Hermione._

"Alright. Every one out, except you, Ron and you too, Ms. Granger. My patient needs her rest." Madam Pomfrey directed.

The Weasely family made their hurried goodbyes to one another. Each of them paused and lingered a moment at Ginny's bedside. They offered murmurs of encouragement, a gentle squeeze of a pale hand, and a kiss to the fore head or cheek. George, for his part, lingered the longest of all. No smirk nor smart comment crossed his lips. He appeared truly shaken by the attack on his youngest sibling and it showed on his stricken face. A few more moments passed and he bent low and kissed Ginny's forehead, softly, reverently.

Arthur Weasely took advantage of his family's distraction by pulling Kingsley aside for a more private discussion.

"Alright, Kingsley, it's just us now. What else haven't you told us?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt cocked a lopsided grin. "Am I that transparent?"

"No, I've just known you too long." Arthur answered incredulously." What are you holding back?"

"This is off the record, Arthur. Even the minister hasn't been briefed yet. It'll be my arse if the papers get a hold of this, but the three dead wizards appear to be in league with the same lot that attacked the Dragon Reserve in Romania last Christmas."

"A-are you sure of this?" Arthur stammered worriedly.

"As sure as we can be. Their disguises match Charlie's and the surviving witness's descriptions to a tee. Their M.O. matches. The only thing we can't figure is why Ginny? Why here? There have been no other reports of any troubling activity outside of Romania. All indications are that the group is still operating in that area."

Arthur Weasley's face was etched with concern for his family's future, but his mind was still keenly focused on the present. "Anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, there is." Kingsley noticed Arthur's eyebrow rise in curiosity. "Of the three aforementioned dark wizards, one was killed by his own hand..." he paused for effect.

"And the other two?" Arthur queried, not exactly sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"They were both killed,. but not by magic." Kingsley lit the fuse.

"What do you mean they weren't killed by magic? Surely the three of them fought back, magic must have been involved?

With the fuse lit, Kingley dropped the bomb. "They fought back alright. We did _prior incantantum _on their wands. They used a lot of nasty curses and hexes tonight, most of them unforgivable. Whoever they fought, survived the encounter. Not only did they survive ,but they killed two of the others with their bare hands. No magic or weapon was used in the deaths of Gregory Goyle or Vincent Crabbe. Who ever did this really knew what they were doing.

Arthur Weasely's face paled as he considered this information.

"What about the third wizard, the one who killed himself? Was there anything strange about his death?" Arthur asked.

"His death -no." Kingsley answered flatly. "The bastard plunged a knife into his own chest by the look of things. One thing does bare noting, however? He was er, disabled, as it were, first."

"Disabled? How was he disabled?" Arthur asked curiously.

"He was, that is, er... it appears that his bits were-crushed." Kingley finished uncomfortably.

Both men grimaced as they considered this information. Arthur put the proper spin on things and replied grimly, "Good".

Having made their goodbyes, the family was about to depart when, "You two! Come here this instant." Madam Pomfrey halted the twins departure.

George, or was it Fred, pasted a wining smile on his face as he sauntered up to the medi-witch and inquired good naturedly. "Something we can do for you, Poppy 'ol girl?"

"Old girl is it? she snorted in disdain. "Turn out your pockets- the both of you." she demanded.

Having arrived alongside his twin, Fred, or was it George, paled at her request and huffed indignantly. "Now see here my good woman. Whilst I'll admit that in our younger days we may have given you reason to be suspicious, we've matured since then. Haven't we ,Forge?"

"Indeed we have, Gred. Why,we're respected business men within the community and as such should be treated with the utmost diligence."

"Now!" Pomfrey barked as she tapped her foot impatiently.

The twins grumbled irritably, making such comments like "always vilified", "misunderstood and unappreciated", whilst they emptied their pockets, producing a variety of medical concoctions, undoubtedly purloined from Pomfrey's inventory. They offered a sheepish smile in way of apology and turned to go, but were halted by a snap of madam Pomfrey's fingers.

George turned back to the matron and shrugged his shoulders helplessly, before withdrawing a foot long flask of a purplish potion, from the waist of his trousers.

Pomfrey tsked and said, "As I said before; not quite **identical** twins." her comment brought a guffaw of laughter from the friends and family present and an intense blush from each of the twins.

The humor of the situation was soon lost on the twins as Molly Weasley grabbed each of her twin sons by an ear and scolded. "Escort your mother home safely, will you? Respected business men, indeed. The two of you are nothing more than a pair of cheap carnival hucksters! Sneak thief's have more common dignity than to be seen around with the likes of you. When I get you home, I'm going to give you a turn that'll have even Voldemort quaking in hell!"

"Idiots! Cretins! Must I do everything myself?" Malfoy seethed out loud as he paced back and forth in front of his desk, thinking darkly…_They couldn't even handle a slip of a girl and that fool Creevey? _

Now the Ministry's blood hound, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was barking at his door_._

_No matter. The ministry had no proof of my involvement, only suspicions. Crabbe and Goyle had been no more than common thugs, but they had their uses and had proved steadfastly loyal, if unintelligent. Flint had shown promise. At least the man had the dignity to dispatch himself , rather than be taken. _The three wizards were valuable, but expendable_._

His plans would move forward. There were many others within his growing organization that were eager to prove themselves worthy of his personal notice.

_At least one interesting bit of information was gleaned from this catastrophe, that is, if his agents were correct in their assessment of the failed mission? _

Crabbe and Goyle were not killed by use of magic or weapon. They were killed by someone's bare hands.

_That in and of itself was interesting. Couple that with Charlie Weasley's rescue at the Dragon Reserve, by a notably powerful mage ,and one might actually consider that there was more to the Weasley's than meets the eye. Either, the Weasley's or someone close to them was proving to be a worthy adversary. A very worthy adversary._ Malfoy mused in silent contemplation.

Rick Sander's words still haunted his dreams and disturbed his every waking thought. Now more than ever he considered the man's last words. _"I've seen the best,.. trained him,.. fought him.. you're not him,.. not by half !"_

Ginny returned to her family's supportive love the following day. She could remember very little of the events that took place at Hogsmeade. She had told Kingsley almost everything she could remember:

She told him about the three scarlet robed figures grabbing her and knocking her wand from her grip.

She told him how she had screamed for Collin to run for it.

She told him about seeing the green light of the _killing curse _hit Collin on the left side of his chest and the awful '**thud**' she heard, and how her heart clenched when he fell to the pavement- dead.

Lastly, she told Kingsley how she had fought back against her assailants; how she bit one of them and the feeling of triumph she felt when he swore in pain. That was just before he struck her back and she must have lost consciousness. Ginny told him everything, almost everything.

Ginny didn't tell Kingsley or anyone else the rest, it was nothing really.

_It was probably some hallucination caused by the blow to her head, or maybe some remnant of a long forgotten dream she once had. _She told herself this many times over, in the days that followed.

Sometimes she almost believed herself, almost.

What Ginny didn't tell Kingsley, or the rest of her family for that matter, was that from somewhere out of the darkness, she could have sworn she heard someone say,"I love you".

Ginny Weasley had heard any number of people tell her that they loved her. Mum, dad, Bill and even, Charlie, said it on occasion. She could even remember Ron saying it a time or two. This was different though. It wasn't the same as having a parent, sibling, or even a friend tell you that they "loved you". This was like how she imagined someone would say it when they were 'in love' with you. The sound of it had filled her with such warmth that even there in the darkness, it comforted and surrounded her. It filled her being with such incredible joy that she thought her heart would surely burst from the magnitude of it.

_It must have been a dream . Some left over memory from one of the romance novels she frequently read. No one had ever said these words to her in such a way. No one had ever felt this way about her,... had they? There was just something so familiar in that voice from the darkness. It wasn't the voice, or even the words. It was just something in the voice. Something about the way it said these words to her, the passion of them, the longing ,.. the pain._

_Oh God! _She was going mad. _I should be in mourning, __**s**_he thought ashamedly. One of her best friend's funeral was today, and her she was mooning over some fragment of a long forgotten dream!

Collin Creevey was buried on the Wednesday preceding Easter. It was a sad affair for all in attendance. Sad, to see one so young, cut down in his youth. Though one could take heart that he gave his life to save the life of another, it was still a sad affair. Sad, to see that such things as self sacrifice were still necessary in the world. Even the heavens seemed to weep at his passing . Strange that? Strange that a soft rain had developed from what had minutes before been a gentle, sunny spring day.

Minerva McGonagal's eyes scanned the crowd in attendance at young Mr. Creevey's ceremony. She had been deeply honored when Collin's family had asked her to perform the eulogy for today's service. In her heart , she could think of one better suited to the task. A person who knew the true value of friendship, perhaps better than he gave himself credit for.

Her eyes found him, the very person to whom she thought this honor should fall to. He was heavily cloaked and hooded, standing in the back of St. Timothy's cemetery, pretending to be an innocent mourner. As if his only reason for being there was to mourn a friend or family member's passing,... and so he was. Any casual observer would think his presence here today was just an innocent coincidence. They would be wrong , terribly wrong.

Though cloaked and hooded, Harry Potter was exactly where he wanted to be. He was mourning the loss of a friend and taking the time to remember others that had passed before. With great care he laid two perfect white roses upon their graves. His eyes focused on the headstones of James and Lily Potter, but his ears listened intently to the words of Minerva McGonagal as she honored the passing of yet another young friend.

The rain had started as his own tears began to fall. He had fought it as best he could , but, his growing _empathic abilities_, coupled with the excessive amount of life force in the area had overwhelmed him and he'd soon lost control over his _elemental magic._

The rain had fallen gently and the crowd had not seemed to mind as it mimicked there own sorrowful mood. Harry was at least pleased the rainfall, though unwanted on his part, helped shroud his appearance from the casual observer.

McGonagal's voice broke as she finished the eulogy. If she were honest with herself, it was due to the anguish she felt as she watched Harry quietly make his way out of the cemetery, whilst the other mourners greeted and comforted one another. She ached to hold him in her arms and comfort him, though what words of comfort she could offer to him, she couldn't fathom.

_What did one say to someone who's lost so much?_ A gentle squeeze on her arm brought her from her dark thoughts. She thanked God, for the millionth time, for his gift of friendship in the form of Poppy Pomfrey.

Poppy Pomfrey stood at Minerva McGonagal's side as they ghosted through the crowd together, offering words of comfort and support to family and friend's of the departed.

Her heart too, had clenched when Minerva's voice had cracked toward the end of her eulogy.

Her eyes too, were fixed on the solitary figure toward the back of the cemetery. It was for mainly him that Minerva's and her own heart ached. She watched as Minerva's emotions warred within her. She watched her friend lose the battle with her self control and start to move in the direction of the retreating figure. She reached out a comforting, if restraining hand and gave Minerva's arm a gentle squeeze.

_Now was not the time. They would honor there word and keep his secret, no matter how much their own heart's screamed to do otherwise._

"Headmistress? Headmistress McGonagal, I was wondering if I could ask a favor?"

Minerva McGonagal turned toward the voice that had called to her. She'd half expected to hear this particular voice, ever since the night of the attack on Ginny Weasley.

"Yes, Miss Granger, what can I do for you?"

"I've been working on some research for my Potions final and I was wondering if I could have access to the lab tomorrow?"

McGonagal pursed her lips thoughtfully as she considered Hermione's request, but not in the way that Hermione suspected.

_My, my, ...you are indeed a clever witch, Miss Granger_. She mused to herself_. _

_I'd half expected you to take the rest of the holiday to puzzle things out, but you're on to it already aren't you? _

McGonagal chanced a glance at her friend, Poppy. She could tell by the look on Poppy's face that she was of a similar mind regarding Hermione's supposed request. At least she could have a bit of sport with her before she put the young witch on Harry's trail.

"I suppose that's possible Ms. Granger, but as you know Professor Greybore is away for the holiday, so there's no one available to supervise your work. There's a great deal of dangerous ingredients present within the school's stores, especially in the restricted section, such things as .. Er,... the ingredients for _polyjuice potion, _and the like?.

Hermione's face paled notably and she had a panicked, 'caught in the act', sort of appearance.

McGonagal fought down the urge to bark a laugh. _You may be a clever witch, Hermione, but you can't bluff worth a damn. _

She decided to stop baiting the poor girl, besides, she didn't know how much longer she could keep a straight face at the poor girl's expense.

"Well," she drawled as if grudgingly relenting. "I suppose we might make allowances for such a dedicated student, what with you being Head Girl and all. I expect you'll conduct yourself with the utmost diligence, considering the trust that's been placed in you Ms. Granger?"

Hermione gulped nervously and replied, "O-Of course, Headmistress."

"Very well. Come to my office at 10am sharp, Ms. Granger. I shall have a key to the potions lab available for your use. The password to my office is... er, The Cannon's Victorious."

"I'll be there at 10am sharp. Thank you ,Headmistress."

McGonagal waved her off and waited till she'd rejoined with her friends at the gates of St. Timothy's cemetery before she acknowledged her friend's gentle tug on her elbow.

"Poppy?"

"I don't like this Minerva. I don't like it at all."

"Neither do I ,old friend."

"Then why in Heaven's name are you helping her? You know that she's on to him. She might not know it's him, but she'll glean the truth of it eventually."

"I know that too." McGonagal answered calmly.

"Please reconsider, Minnie? He trusts us. In spite of the fact that he has no one else to turn to,... he trusts us. You know what a rare thing that is for him. Is there anyone else in the whole world, other than Albus Dumbledore, who's trust you would be more honored to have?"

"No one " she readily agreed.

"Not interfering is one thing, but now you're straining that trust to the breaking point." Poppy warned.

"Just how am I doing that?" Minerva asked with feigned innocence.

"You know very well that you're actually helping Ms. Granger learn his identity." she snapped back irritably, before pleading once more. "Please, Minnie. Don't risk this. We're all he has left. It took me a while to come around to his way of thinking, but, he's right. No good will come of this. Only heart break awaits them all if his existence is revealed to his friends. Harry can't go back."

"He must go back." Minerva hissed as she rounded on her startled friend. "He must go back if he's to have even the slightest chance at surviving. You know from your last diagnostic evaluation of Harry that he's beginning to succumb to Voldemort's taint .Whatever brief remission he'd enjoyed after Christmas is fading. If he is not able to draw on that incredible font of empathy and love that he harbors within himself, if he cannot find a way to summon the _Phoenix Fire, _and with it's power heal himself, than he is lost,.. and for all time. Can you live with that? Can you live with the knowledge that his entire existence will end as no more than a faded page in the history books? You know how he thinks. Will he even dare to try and love again, knowing the darkness he carries within himself? No. That blasted nobility complex of his will prevent him from taking the chance to love someone again for fear that he will endanger those he cares for. I for one intend to take that decision out of his hands and place my trust in the Weasleys' and Ms. Granger."

Pomfrey was crying openly now. Part of her agreed with Minerva, but another part of her; the part that Minerva had always cherished; that part strived to remain loyal to the promises she'd made Harry. Seeing her friend's dilemma, McGonagal conceived upon an idea that might further prove her point.

"Poppy dear, I'm sorry this is troubling you so, but I feel in my heart that it's the right course. I respect that you want to remain true to your word, but in doing so, I feel that we will have been a party to destroying something that is very, very precious."

Poppy brightened hopefully. "W-What do you mean, Minnie?"

McGonagal reached out and grasped her friend's hand. "Come with me a moment, I think it will be easier to just show you."

Leading her friend by the hand she retraced the route she had seen Harry take earlier during the funeral. They wound their way past several lonely headstones before arriving at the place she knew Harry had visited whilst paying his respects to Collin's memory.

Poppy Pomfrey found herself led to the resting place of James and Lily Potter. Beneath each of their respective headstones lay a perfect white rose.

"Did Harry leave these?" Poppy gasped reverently, already believing she knew the answer to her own question.

"Yes." her friend answered simply. "As he has done on every occasion that he visits his parents. As he has always done since he was a little boy. It used to give Albus fits, but Harry would insist upon making the trip here every year at Christmas and on the anniversary of their deaths. He comes at other times as well, but always,… always without fail, he comes on those two days. Always!" she emphasized pointedly.

It took Poppy a moment to catch on. Minnie smiled warmly as her friend's eyebrows raised and her mouth formed a surprised 'o', in sudden understanding. "Do you mean,.. last Christmas…?"

"Yes"

"When he was so dreadfully hurt, h-he still came here?"

"Yes"

"This is where you found him, then?"

"This is where I found him ,.. he and the white roses he'd brought for his parents." she confirmed.

Poppy shuddered and began to weep in understanding.

"I'm sorry Poppy, dear. I know this is distressing, but I thought you should know. I.."

"Oh-do shut up, Minerva" her friend cut her off irritably.

Poppy's hands scrubbed the tears away from her face as she continued. "How could I have been so thick? We all know his story; " the boy that lived", what rot! The stories do not do him justice. Nothing could. How can one explain the depth of the man's soul? Harry runs off at a moment's notice to save a friend against impossible odds. He then risks his life again to bring that same friend to help, injuring himself severely in the process. He's hurt,.. dying.." Poppy paused and gulped back the lump that had risen in her throat and continued her revelation.. "He's dying and in terrible pain, but does he seek help for himself as any sane person would? No-ooh…, he comes here! He comes here to honor his dead parents. Not only does he come here, but in spite of his terrible pain, he bothers to take the time to bring them a white rose for remembrance sake. Oh Minnie, why didn't you tell me? You should have told me." her words were pained, but not accusing.

McGonagal answered incredulously. "How could I? How could anyone possibly explain the depth of feeling for something like this? This is but one example of many. His whole life has been about caring, thoughtfulness, honor, compassion, courage and loyalty. At least that's what other people see, if their lucky Even those lucky few usually fail to perceive the true depth of the boy."

Pomfrey nodded her head in appreciation. " But, we understand, don't we? Those are just defining characteristics of Harry Potter. Just small pieces of a much larger puzzle. Those are just the glimpses of himself that he lets others see, albeit all too briefly. What Harry Potter is,.." Poppy's face twisted up as if she was trying to place an important piece into a very difficult puzzle . Her eyes suddenly went wide in shocked understanding. "Oh..my...God! Minnie? What Harry Potter is,.. is love."

Poppy stumbled back from the gravesite into her friend's supporting grasp. Her face was a mask of wonder as she'd finally, totally realized the immense magnitude of her own words.

Minerva smirked knowingly as she looked into her friend's wide eyed, stunned appearance.

"Now that you know, what do you think we should do? Should we honor our word and keep his existence hidden from the people who love him?"

"Tell them." Poppy growled fiercely.

Minerva clucked her tongue. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. Besides, they'd never believe us and if Harry got wind of our betrayal, he'd bolt and we'd never find him again. No, I think it a far better thing that they come to their own conclusions on this matter,…with a little guidance on our part, here and there."

**Hogwarts**

Hermione Granger's heels clicked hollowly as she made her way down to the Potion's class located in the dungeons of Hogwarts. McGonagal had ,thankfully, been busy with paperwork and had taken little notice of her during her brief visit to retrieve the keys for the Potion's Laboratory and it's subsequent storeroom. She's held her hands nervously behind her back whilst in McGonagal's presence, fearing that her trembling fingers would betray her anxiety and the headmistress would wheedle a full confession from her before she could even commit the crime she was intending.

There was no school project due, no experiment that required her attention over the holidays. Hermione had come to the school with one intention in mind. She intended to purloin the needed supplies to make a small batch of _polyjuice potion. _She already had a small cauldron nestled away ,as well as a few of the more basic ingredients. Once she had the rest of the required supplies, she'd set about brewing the _polyjuice, _and in a month's time she'd have a face to go with the blood samples she'd gleaned from Ginny's blood soaked sweater. The same one she'd wore on the night of the attack on her and Collin. The original formulae had called for a hair sample , but that was nothing a little cleaver tweaking on her part hadn't resolved. A person's genetic structure Gene's was the same no matter liquified or solid.

Hermione had cast a _preservative spell _on the sweater to keep the blood sample fresh. She'd had her father, a rather gifted biologist as well as dentist, type and cross match a sample of the blood from the sweater. She'd had him do the same with the sample she'd collected at the Potter family gravesite last Christmas. Interestingly enough, the type and genetic structure of the blood samples present on both the sweater and at the gravesite were a dead on match!

The blood type did not match against the school records of any of those known to have participated in the attack on Ginny and Collin, nor did they match the victims. The blood could have come from a fourth, and as yet unknown, assailant,… or it could have come from Ginny's rescuer. Hermione was hedging her bets on the latter. The blood sample couldn't give her a name, but with the use of her "_unique polygenic"_,.. it could provide a face to identify. Someone very mysterious and powerful was out there, either watching over, and/or, plotting against her friends. She intended to unravel that mystery.

**Easter at the Burrow**

Easter Sunday had proved a real treat for the Weasley family and Hermione. The twins had arrived at the crack of dawn and waylaid their mother from preparing her usual sumptuous breakfast. The twins insisted that they would provide the food and fun for the entire family once everyone had risen for the day.

The family had enjoyed a full breakfast prepared by the twins. Their mother was completely speechless to learn that they could even make toast, let alone cook up the feast they prepared for everyone. Once the breakfast was consumed and the dishes charmed to wash and put themselves away, the twins made an announcement.

"Alright you lot." George began.

"We've got a bit of fun planned ..." Fred continued.

"For everyone's pleasure…" George added.

'We've planned an Easter **hunt.**" Fred emphasized the word "hunt"

"And there's an Easter basket for each and every one of you.."

"Hidden throughout the yard!"

" So off you get.." Fred prompoted .

" ... and good hunting!" George finished excitedly.

Ginny squealed in delight and bolted for the door with Ron hot on her heels.

"Why boys, what a lovely idea, thank you." Their mother chimed appreciatively.

"Tut- Tut, nothings too good for our beloved family, is it Gred?"

"Indeed not, Forge. Mother, if I may escort you?" Fred offered his arm to his mother and she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm gracefully.

" I believe we may find something of interest for you nestled amongst your lovely rose bushes." Fred oozed charmingly.

"You're on your own , Dad." George guffawed as he slapped his father on the shoulder playfully.

Mr. Weasley cocked an eyebrow, before he huffed and made his way out to the yard. His gait was a bit hurried for someone acting so indignant.

"Hermione, will you put down that boring drivel you've been paging thru and get you skinny arse out here? How many times can a person read, 'Hogwarts a History'?" Ron yelled from the yard.

The sound of a large book being slammed shut in irritation shortly followed his call.

The entire yard and garden surrounding the Burrow had been decorated with pastel bows and streamers, befitting the occasion.

"Boys, this is absolutely wonderful." Their mother gushed, eliciting a deep blush from each of her twin sons.

A Streak of flaming red hair flew into George's arms followed by Ginny's "Thank you… thank you… thank you!"

"You're very welcome, pumpkin." George answered as he returned her hug.

"Oh Fred,... the silver hair berets are so beautiful! There's new quidditch gloves and sugar quills, pepper imps and, oh it's just everything!"

"Yes, wellll,... we did try to make each person's basket a bit special."

"It's all wonderful. Thank you. Thank you, Fred." Ginny called out to her other brother who was enjoying a pleasant chat with his mother as they strolled thru the garden.

"You're very welcome." Fred called back smiling.

Hermione came next, stammering her thanks for the new spell book and assortment of Romance novels, (she secretly favored these and wandered how they could possibly have gleaned that closely guarded secret). They both hugged her warmly, seeming genuinely delighted by her enjoyment.

_For once, not a hint of mischief was in the twins eyes. Maybe they were becoming more thoughtful, having finally started to grow up a bit._ Molly wondered

Their mother was thrilled with the new apron, mixing spoons and tin of assorted teas and biscuits.

Dad was positively giddy with the assortment of muggle items he found within his own basket.

"I say,... what's this odd contraption? It makes everyone appear miniscule."

George cleared his throat stifling a snigger.

His twin showed his father the proper way to use a pair of binoculars.

"You're looking thru the wrong end, Dad."

"Hang on to those. They may prove useful soon enough." George said with a knowing wink toward his other half.

A few minutes later, Ron was whooping excitedly as he'd found in his own basket..

"I don't believe it? Really guys, it's too much!"

'"What did you get, Ron?" Ginny asked curiously.

Ron's face was flushed in feverish anticipation. He waved a slip of paper over his head and howled madly, "Chudley Cannon Playoff tickets!"

"You needn't make such a fuss." Fred drawled.

"They were a bargain really." George put in.

"Even though it's a gamble." Fred concluded.

"What, why?" Ron asked his eyes suddenly narrowing suspiciously.

"Well,... the tickets are for the playoffs..." Fred began sheepishly.

"The second round of the playoffs." George clarified.

"...and nobody in their right mind would throw away money on the Cannons making it to the second round." Fred continued.

"At least that's what the ticket scalper told us when we bought them." George finished.

The rest of the family began laughing at Ron's expense.

"Thanks a lot." Ron hissed irritably.

"Now, now, don't be that way little bro." George chided.

"After all, we did cater to all of your more base wants." Fred added.

"Indeed we did." George offered conciliatorily. "Your basket is chockfull of Bernie Bott's beans, Drooble's gum, ice mice, chocolate bunny cards..."

"Chocolate bunny cards?" Ron questioned as he dug thru his basket.

"Latest thing, bro. They're the new holiday edition of the chocolate frogs. The bunnies are suppose to have special; 'one of a kind' cards in them and the bunnies have more of a 'kick' to 'em as well." Fred sniggered at his own pun.

"More of a kick, 'eh? We'll just see about that." Ron blurted as he tore off the wrapper of one of his chocolate rabbits. Once free from its cellophane confinement , the Rabbit leapt high into the air to make a break for it.

"Never had a chance." Fred said disgustedly handing a galleon to his twin brother.

"When will you learn to never gamble against Ron's gluttony?" George admonished pocketing the coin.

Ron had snatched the chocolate rabbit from the air and stuffed the squealing confection into his eager mouth- in its entirety.

"Wait for it." Fred whispered excitedly out of the corner of his mouth to his brother, who for his part was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. George's eyes were wild with anticipation as he focused on his younger brother.

One second Ron was happily munching away on another chocolate rabbit, when a large "**POP**!" sounded, and a giant pink rabbit with a familiar tuft of red hair between its ears, was standing in the place Ron had previously been.

"What have you done this ti…?." Their mother began to scold, staring in disbelief.

"It's on!" Fred barked excitedly.

George pulled a bronze bugle from his robes and hurriedly put it to his lips. "Baaaa-Roooo!"it blasted, heralding several more loud pops and after a dazzling flash of light, that had the others rubbing the spots from their eyes, revealed:

George and Fred were mounted on a pair of gray speckled horses. Each of the brothers was finely dressed in old English hunting garb, complete with black helms and riding crops.

A pack of beagle hounds was anxiously milling about the area and sniffing about as if searching for the scent of their quarry.

"Don't you dare!" their mother screeched.

George smirked and blew his hunting horn, "Baaa-rooo!"

The dogs took off toward the giant pink Ron/rabbit.

"Run for it, Ron!" Hermione screamed.

The rabbit nearly jumped out of its skin as it caught site of the dogs bearing down on it. He turned and bounded over the far hedge that marked the boundary of the Weasley's garden.

The dogs were hot on his trail.

George blew his horn again and his brother shouted, "Tally Ho!"

The twins spurred their mounts forward and the hunt was on.

Ginny was doubled over in laughter.

Hermione was screaming for Ron to, "run faster", at the top of her lungs.  
Molly Weasely rounded on her husband, who was trying unsuccessfully to stifle giggles of his own,"Don't just stand there you great git. Do something?"

Arthur Weasley immediately straightened up and took on a deadly serious appearance. "Right, I'm on it." He ground out, scrambling to his shed.

Mr. Weasely returned from the shed with a small leather case under his arm. He leaped up on to the family picnic table and began pulling something from the case.

"Arthur, what on earth are you doing?" His wife asked bewildered by his antics.

Mr. Weasley pulled his new binoculars out of the case and put them to his eyes in the correct fashion. After a few minor adjustments, he broke into a running commentary...

" The rabbit lost some ground in the meadow but was able to make up some distance after crossing the river…. As the group heads into the forest, it's the **rabbit** by a **hare**!

Hermione and Mrs. Weasely had each joined Ginny, as they rolled around on the lawn laughing hysterically.

An hour later found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley enjoying a spot of tea with Ginny and Hermione. They made casual conversation as they waited for the boys to return from their little sojourn. Mrs. Weasley wasjust pouring everyone another cup when Ron burst thru the kitchen door wild eyed. His clothes were torn and dirty and he was gasping for air.

"Ron..?" Hermione beganin a shocked voice.

"They're barking!" He shouted to no one in particular. "Nutters the both of them" That said, Ron flew up the stairs and a loud 'bang' announced him slamming the door, seeking the supposed safety of his room. Within moments the sounds of furniture being violently moved, informed the startled gathering that Ron was barricading himself in.

Before anyone could move, the kitchen door banged open.

A long steel blue tube came slowly thru the door. It ended up being the barrel of what appeared to be a muggle shot gun held in the hands of Fred Weasley. Fred was soon followed by his brother, George who also held one of the muggle firearms at the ready. Both were dressed in khaki hunting outfits complete with fur trimmed hats with ear flaps on them.

They tip toed quietly through the kitchen, oblivious to the shocked stares from the rest of their family.

The silence was broken by Mrs. Weasley. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded of them.

Fred turned to his mother and held a finger up to his lips and,.."Shhhh. Be warry, warry qwi-et."

"We're hunting Weas-e-ly wabbits." George added grinning madly.

"He-He-He!" Fred finished.

The kitchen erupted in fits of laughter.

**That Night**

It was nearly 2:00 am when Molly Weasley snuck down stairs under the guise of having a spot of tea to sooth her nerves before returning to sleep. This was becoming an all too familiar ritual over the past year. She would eventually return to bed, but it was unlikely that she would manage more than another hour or two of sleep, if she slept at all.

Despite the frivolity of the day and the joy of having all of her children home for the holidays, her nerves were still on edge. She'd thought the two combined might offer her some added comfort and provide her with a descent night's rest- she'd been wrong. Collin's funeral last week served to remind her that her family was no longer whole and would never be so again.

Molly poured herself a steaming mug of Earl Grey tea and sat quietly in her kitchen. She spent a great deal of time in this kitchen over the years and found herself here now, more than ever. This kitchen held so many memories that were dear to her heart. It had always been a special place for her. It was a special place now as well- a place of refuge. Arthur would worry if he knew just how much time she spent here, nearly every night; thinking, wishing, remembering and yes,… mourning.

After all this time she still mourned for her lost child. He was not born of her flesh, but he held a special place in her heart, just as all her children did. Molly lowered her face into her hands and wept bitter tears of loss and regret. Her tea sat cooling in its mug, untouched, just as it had nearly every night since he had been lost to them.

**South England **

Harry's bare feet padded softly across the cool tiles of his kitchen floor. A single candle lit the room; though it was a full stick when he'd lit it, now only a stub of the candle remained.

_I should be sleeping, _he told himself for the hundredth time during the night.

Should be, but couldn't.

He shouldn't have gone to Collin's funeral last week. He shouldn't have, but, he had to. Collin was his friend and deserved his respect and consideration, especially after giving his life to save... her.

_If I could only get Ginny's face out of his mind. _

He tried, butcouldn't, and wasn't sure that he wanted to anyway_._

He'd seen her from a distance at the funeral. Her face had been blotchy from crying and her hair hung limply, damp from the light rain that fell throughout the afternoon. Ginny's eyes were red rimmed and her lips swollen from nervously biting them as she was want to do when distressed. Despite all of this; she had never looked lovelier to him.

He fought desperately to control himself. He struggled to control the overwhelming impulse to reach out to her with his senses, but knew it was a futile battle. Even at this great distance, he knew he could find her if he reached out with his growing _empathic abilities. _He knew that his heart could find her even if she were a world away.

_Surely she was sleeping at this late hour?_ _The risk was nearly infinitesimal_. He convinced himself.

Harry reached out into the night and let his heart guide him to her. It felt as if his soul had left his body and was traversing the distance to Ottery St. Catchpole at nearly the speed of thought. In only a few moments, he found his way to the Burrow.

In a blink, part of him was there, there in her room, with her. He filled his senses with her, relishing the emotions that cascaded through his being as his soul reached out and brushed against hers. She was asleep,... and dreaming.

She dreamed of flying. She was on her broom playing quidditch. He could hear her pulse pounding with excitement as she dodged bludgers, on her way to the goal. He reveled in the thrill she felt from the wind in her hair as she accelerated, pushing her broom to the limit. He felt her immense satisfaction as she made her shot and watched it soar thru the goal, followed by the roar of the crowd and her teammates slapping her back in congratulations

The joy he felt, thru her, turned to revulsion in a heartbeat. It was like a bludger blindsiding him; he never saw it coming. Ginny was flirting, excited and aroused...for Collin?

Part of him was deeply ashamed for having intruded upon her private thoughts and feelings. Another part of him felt the pangs of bitter jealousy pulling at his heart.

Jealousy soon turned to desolation.

This is what it felt to be betrayed. He knew he had no right to feel this way. She was, after all, completely blameless in this. He was not a part of her life now, nor did he even hold a memory within her heart,... thanks to Hermione's meddling!

Harry's heart seethed in a blind rage as he sought out Hermione's empathic signature.

She was here at the Burrow. He knew she was here.

It was still the holidays, school was still out. Where else would she be but at the scene of the crime, the place where she amputated all that he was from Ginny's memory. He found her in a restless sleep, occupying Percy's old room.

His intent was to pour the depth of his anger and pain into her own heart. He wanted her to feel all that he had become; all that she had made him through her blind meddling.

Harry gathered his rage, his pain, feelings of bitterness, loneliness and heartbreak that he felt. He channeled them up into the core of his being, his mind. Once he had gathered it all he would blast it into her unknowing psyche and then watch Hermione drown in the sorrow of his existence; knowing that she, in part, had a hand in its horrific destruction.

He was ready. He would only need to...no!

_My God! What am I thinking? She is no more to blame than Ginny in this. She has caused me pain, yes, but, that was not her intention. It had never been. Hermione had only wanted to help Ginny. What she did, she did out of love. _

Harry could feel his compassion burning away his anger and pain. He reached out tenderly to her and brushed against her soul, that part of her that was uniquely, Hermione Granger. Her dreams were troubled, fitful, almost anguished. He let his sense's probe deeper.

_She is,... she is dreaming of… me?_

He hated himself as never before. Sickened by what he had originally planned to do to her. He could not leave her like this, she deserved far better_. _He perhaps could not forget, but he could offer her this consolation_. _Harry let the depth of his compassion flow into his friend. His mind and heart whispered to hers, murmuring soft words of warmth and tenderness. His being touched hers with only one theme in mind… _I forgive you._

With that done Harry began to withdraw his psyche from this home that he had once been proud and honored to call his own. He would never know that Hermione had awakened from her troubled dreams consumed by grief as fresh and raw as the day she had first succumbed to it. Strangely her heart was in some ways lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from it. In other ways, she felt the loss of her friend as if it had occurred only just now.

Harry paused on the threshold of the Burrow, _something was wrong here_.

Some instinct pulled at him, calling desperately to his soul. He reached out with his senses and found her in the kitchen. It was not unusual to fine Molly Weasley in the kitchen, except at night? He reached out and probed her psyche with the utmost tenderness and discretion. She was sobbing quietly. Waves of pain and longing emanated from her. She was grieving.

He hadn't thought her that close to Collin, but she did hold a great deal of compassion and Collin was obviously of some importance to Ginny, so really ,it was not surprising that she had developed an attachment to the boy. He had intruded enough here and vowed silently to never to do so again.

Harry began to slowly withdraw his empathic probes from Mrs. Weasley, when he sensed her startle. Concerned, he paused a moment; it was a moment too long. He felt a wrench within himself that rocked him to his core.

_Molly Weasley is reaching out to me_.

Her own psyche clawed and pulled at his as she tried to draw him in deeper. Her mind latched on to his and she strained and pulled to drag his essence into herself. He began to feel the tumult of her emotions. He could now sense the full scope of her grief as if it were his very own. With a sudden jolt of understanding he realized his mistake; she was not grieving for Collin, but for him, Harry Potter. In his shock he was at last able to wrench himself free of her grasp.

He could sense the faint echoes of the abject misery caused by his departure.

In a blind panic he began to pull himself back from the Burrow, but paused at the threshold of the Weasley Home once more. Even though he was not in direct contact with her, he could feel the heartbreak Mrs. Weasley was feeling at his departure. He was totally shocked and dismayed. He'd never so much as dared assume that any of them would still miss him after all this time, let alone grieve for him.. They had each other. They had a future in each other's lives. There was no need to cling to the past. He was not worth it, or so he'd thought. His heart ached for his one time, surrogate mother.

He could not leave her this way.

Harry gathered all his memories of Molly Weasley over the years: her helping him at Platform 9 3/4's, welcoming him to her home the summer before his second year, hugging and thanking him after having saved Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, her and Bill serving as his family before the third task of the Tri-Wizard's Tournament, her consoling him after the events of that night when Cedric was killed; all these things and more he gathered into a tight knot within his own mind. He finished with his last memory of her; when she refused to allow him to sacrifice himself- even for Ginny?

Harry gathered the memories and all the emotions they elicited within himself. He reached out to her and poured all of his cherished memories, (combined with the love and gratitude that he felt for this woman), into her own psyche. He filled her heart to bursting with all the thoughts of care and tenderness he'd felt for her, but never had dared to say when he'd had the chance. Harry finished by imbuing her with this one overriding thought, _Do not grieve for me. I am at peace... _

**Molly's point of view**:

Molly Weasley had been awash on a sea of grief for her lost child when she felt the essence of that same child find its way back to her heart and into her very soul. Her initial shock, (by this unexpected and unknown intrusion), had quickly turned to desperate joy when she recognized the very soul that had reached out to her in her despair. She clawed and grasped desperately at the link, trying to draw him deeper into her heart. A wail of pain escaped her lips when she lost her tenuous grasp upon Har, and she felt him slip away into the night's ether.

She should have been comforted by the Creator's gift of a rare visit by a lost loved one, but she was not. It only served to fuel the fires of her torment further. She longed for his return, however fleeting it may be. She prayed he would find his way back to her one day, and moments later,... her prayer was answered.

Molly gasped and nearly cried out in her joy, as a torrential flood of familiar memories coursed thru her mind. She could feel Harry's overwhelming love and gratitude filling her heart to near bursting. It was a gift beyond anything she could ever hope for; priceless. She was in awe of the raw power and beauty that was the depth of his love for her. She wept in the sheer joy of it as the memories she relived drifted to an end. Her last view was of him as he left to save her only daughter from a horrific fate. It had cost him his own life- _he'd considered it a bargain!_

She need not have heard his words echoing thru her mind, she recognized the theme of this visit. Harry was trying to tell her to let him go, to move on. She would have tried and eventually done so,... had he not imparted to her his final message...

_I am at peace_...

The instant Molly Weasley heard his final message echoing thru her mind she knew it for what it was- a lie! She knew this boy. Knew him as well as she knew her own children, maybe even better. It was another one of his 'white lies' designed to spare her feelings. It pulled at her heart strings. It was one of Harry Potter's infamous; 'I'm fine' lies. His trademark standard response when he was anything but 'fine'.

If Harry had passed from this life he would be at peace. She knew for certain, without any reservations, that he was not. Despite all that love and tenderness he had imparted to her, she could feel his underlying pain. The bottomless depth of his loneliness and despair was blood chilling. As torn as she was, one thing became abundantly clear and was hammered home with crystal clarity.

Molly Weasley's eyes went wide in the shock of sudden understanding. It was an epiphany! A revelation! She knew,... knew in her heart and in her soul that; he was still… **alive!**


	17. Chapter 17: Revelations

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Characters**

**Chapter Seventeen: Revelations**

**Hogwarts **

"Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor wins the cup!" Hermione screamed in her magically enhanced voice.

Gryffindor had needed to beat Ravenclaw by at least 130 points to win the cup. When the Gryffindor seeker had finally wrestled the snitch from his opponent, the stadium had gone dead quiet. The crowd was stunned to speechlessness by the staggering victory. Moments passed before the stadium erupted in great waves of cheering that echoed throughout the grounds of Hogwarts.

"We've seen history here today everyone." Hermione struggled to make herself heard over the raucous cheering of the crowd.

"Never before in school has history has another quidditch team won by such a decisive margin. Gryffindor's win of 380 points to Ravenclaw's zero, breaks the all time margin of victory for a shutout of 290 points, formerly held by Slytherin for the past 187 years!"

She tried to further anecdote the victory but her _sonorous _charm was drowned out by the entire stadium singing an updated version of:

"Weasley, Weasley is our king! Weasley, Weasley is our queen!"

Ginny had made seventeen goals of nineteen attempts, which gave her a tie for the school record of most goals in a season, although her percentage of scoring was higher than the previous record holder. Hermione had dutifully pointed out Ginny statistics to anyone who would listen, during the team's victory celebration in Gryffindor tower.

Ron had been nothing short of magnificent, which Hermione had also blushingly pointed out as well. Ron had blocked 29 consecutive shots, completely shattering the school's previous all time record of twenty three. His save percentage for the season was an incredible 96 percent. Though he wouldn't admit to it outright, his play level had excelled to new heights after he'd received word from Seamus that several professional quidditch scouts had been present during the teams' past two games .

Professional teams could not recruit a prospective player till after the close of the academic year, but Ron was seen bouncing with excitement as he walked the hallways recently. His elation could be attributed to having learned that his beloved Chudley Cannons had been among those showing interest in his playing ability. Ginny was likewise ecstatic to know that her own dream team, the Holyhead Harpies, were among those vying for her services as a chaser.

Hermione was proud and happy for both her friends, so much so, that she could almost forget about the _polyjuice_ _potion_ she was brewing, almost. The potion she was covertly brewing would be ready in ten more days. Though the potion would be ready a few days before the seventh years were scheduled to sit their N.E.W.T. exams, she decided to wait until after the exams were finished before she went thru with her plan.

Her curiosity was running at an all time high, but she was keeping herself focused on achieving her goals. If she wanted a job in the Department of Mysteries, than she would need top marks on her N.E.W.T. exams. The D.O.M. only accepted the best candidates and she intended to be one of them. Ron and Ginny were giving it their best shot to try and make their dreams a reality; she intended to do the same.

**South England **

Sweat dripped from glistening muscles. The sun had barely risen in the morning sky and Harry was already finished with his extensive morning workout. Every day, rain or shine, sickness or health; Harry started his morning the same way. A brisk five mile jog with a thirty pound pack on his back was followed by intensive sword forms. Rick Sanders had spent hundreds of long hours teaching him, till he was able to perform every intricate step to perfection. He found that his strict adherence to this morning ritual not only kept him in top physical condition, but, helped to clarify and direct his thoughts. The latter was a much appreciated benefit of late, as his thoughts were indeed troubled.

His morning workout was finished, his sword wiped clean and freshly oiled in its scabbard. Harry had made good time this morning and could afford himself a longer shower than usual before he reported to the Cannons training facility. As the soothing warm water ran over his head and eased the tension from his neck, his thoughts began to drift….

_I shouldn't have done it. Kissing Ginny was a mistake. No good can come of it. I'm only torturing myself and for wha; a brush across the lips of an unconscious girl? Merlin, what an idiotic thing to do! What if someone had saw me or worse- recognized me? The press would be all over me. I'd have to give up quidditch and disappear again. It just wasn't worth it,….. was it?_

Then to top it off he'd made a second monumental mistake in nearly as many days.

_How could I have been so stupid as to not realize that when I touch someone empathically that they can sense me as well. _

Molly Weasley had not only recognized his psychic signature, but had latched on to him with a ferocity that was shocking. He'd felt as if she were tearing his soul from his body. Part of him recognized that he had, for a moment, been in real danger of just that. Thankfully, he'd managed to wrestle his consciousness from her hold and was fairly certain that she would only see this brief encounter as a spiritual goodbye, as was his intent.

_I hope I haven't royally bollixed things up! _He chided himself for the hundredth time this week.

The hallway clock chimed half past as he hurriedly dressed and prepared to leave for the Cannon's training pitch. Chudley had steam rolled thru the first playoff series having bested Ballycastle in three straight games. He'd caught the snitch within five minutes at their last game. Neither team had even had a chance to make a goal before it was all over. The Daily Prophet had made a big deal out of it, but it was just dumb luck really. He had just started flying a diagonal search pattern when the snitch had flown right into him. He'd thought he flown into a bird or a large bug. That was before he looked down to find the snitch trying to free itself from his robes. A quick snatch, a whistle blow later, and the game was over. Chudley was moving on to the second round of the playoffs. As The Tornadoes and Podmore were tied at one game apiece, Chudley had at least a week of rest before their next match against the winner of those two teams.

_Rest?-Hah_! Coach Reeve's had elevated their practice schedule to a fever pitch. Chudley was in the playoffs for the first time in over a century and the coach's iron will was set on having them remain there.

Finally dressed, with his equipment bag slung over his shoulder, Alan Brandt stepped outside of his cottage. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his surroundings. He let his empathic resonance flow out into the surrounding area. Though his cottage was very isolated he still did not want to risk exposing himself by a chance encounter with a wayward traveler. His method of travel was very "unique" and would undoubtedly draw a great deal of unnecessary attention to himself. Sensing no human emotions nearby, he lightning traveled to a clearing he'd scouted out in a small wooded area near the training facility. A quick ten minute walk later and he was happily singing as he made his way down to the men's locker.

"What, you can sing too?"

"Huh? Oh... er, hi coach. Sorry, I thought I was alone. I didn't mean to disturb anyone." Alan needlessly apologized.

"Disturbed, are you kidding me? I'm no expert, but with a voice like that, Alan, you could easily make it in the music business. Wait till I tell my daughter about this."

Abigail Reeves was fourteen and had a crush on Alan Brandt from the moment she'd met him at the team mixer that was held to welcome new players at the beginning of the season.

"Abby and the rest of your female fans already think you're the greatest thing since Harry Potter."

"W-What?" Alan stammered in shocked surprise, trying unsuccessfully to fight down the flush he felt rising in his cheeks.

Coach Reeve's gave him and incredulous look before continuing.

"Honestly, Alan, are you totally clueless as to how popular you are? The team gets hundred of fan letters for you every week. Your picture's in "Teen Witch Magazine" nearly every week. I should know as Abby corners me during our evening meals with a barrage of questions about you. She and her friends are always trying to wheedle the inside scoop on Alan Brandt's life out of me, as if I know?" he finished skeptically.

Harry's face paled noticeably. "S-Sorry. I guess I never really thought about it. I try not to get involved with the papers and interviews and all that sort of thing. I value my privacy and try to keep a low profile whenever possible."

"Obviously." his conch agreed incredulously before adding cheekily. "Just don't let your fans catch you singing like that or before you know it, you'll be on stage with the Weird Sisters and I'll be out a first rate seeker."

"Don't worry." Harry all but gagged out in reply. "I'm a quidditch man, not a musician."

"Good, let's keep it that way. Practice in ten, Alan."

"Right" Harry/Alan confirmed and trotted off toward the locker thinking, _What the bloody hell did you do to my voice, Pomfrey?_

**London**

Draco Malfoy was in a poor mood. He'd spent the morning considering his options, of which he had few. Limited options left him with a mood as dour as his thoughts:

_The failed attempt to kidnap Ginny Weasley had at least garnished the desired effect of drawing the Weasley Family's 'guardian angel' out in to the open. She could, coincidently, have been rescued by some passing Good Samaritan? _He soon discounted that possibility_. _

He grimly continued his train of thought.

_Crabbe and Goyle had always been slow on the uptake , but were capable enough, especially in a fight. Flint was strong magically and a good strategist. The three combined should have been more than a match against equally opposing odds. However, all reports indicated that Flint, Crabbe and Goyle had been killed by a single individual,… and without magic yet? No. this was not the work of some random chivalrous fool coming to the aid of the damsel in distress._

Though he'd lost three expendable, but capable wizards, he'd at least learned something of value in return_. _The Weasley family did in fact have another powerful ally within their ranks and that this individual was truly a force to be reckoned with.

_The one that had saved Ginny Weasley and killed my friends could be a different individual than the person that saved Charlie Weasely at the Dragon Reserve, but again, unlikely. This mysterious person was not only gifted magically, (as evidenced by the appauling damage he'd inflicted against what should have been a far superior opposing force at the Dragon Reserve) but has obviously mastered some form of unarmed combat as well. One other thing that set this individual apart and it was something that made him, or her, a remarkably dangerous individual? Unlike Potter, _who he had to begrudgingly admit was gifted magically and had courage to spare, but for all that, _Potter had a nobility streak that often proved his undoing. Potter would not kill. This individual, however, appeared to have no qualms in that regard. This mysterious adversary had dispatched Flint, Crabbe and Goyle, with cool precision. _

To sum it all up; a powerful mage that was well trained in the fighting arts and who isn't afraid to play rough was someone that Draco Malfoy was not eager to cross.

As distasteful as it was, Draco had reluctantly concurred that he would have to fall back on; "Plan B".

_Attacking the Weasley's head on was out of the question. I can ill afford incurring the wrath of their unknown protector. I'll leave that distinct pleasure to Morvis's overly inflated ego. _

Before that ill fated meeting could occur, Draco would need to get inside the Weasley's defenses to ferret out the identity of this unknown individual. To do that he would need to implement "Plan B". He would utilize his natural gifts of charm and cunning to woo Ginny Weasley.

**The Burrow**

To say that Molly Weasley was in a right snit would be an understatement. Her wonderful husband of nearly thirty years, the man she loved with all her heart as evidenced by the seven beautiful children she bore him; did not believe her. Molly had waited a few weeks in the precious hope that, on some level, Harry would reestablish contact with her. When that didn't happen she decided to take matters into her own hands and started by confiding to her husband the startling experience she had on Easter past. Arthur's response had not been what she expected:

"That's nice, dear." He said, before kissing her on the head and flooing to the ministry.

Molly stood staring at the fireplace that her husband had just left thru with a look on stunned disbelief.

"That's nice, dear?" She repeated incredulously, to herself.

Indignantly, she grabbed a handful of floo powder, threw it into the fire and nearly screeched into the green flames, "Arthur Weasley's office, Ministry of Magic!"

A moment later her husband's face lit into view. Arthur had a pinched, strained expression on his face.

"Yes, Molly?" he asked benignly.

"Arthur,..?." she began not bothering to hide the irritation from her voice.

"What do you mean, 'that's nice, dear'? I tell you I've had a spiritual visit with Harry Potter and now know in my heart that he, our seventh son, is still alive, and you say ," that's nice , dear." her fingers mimicking quotation marks in the air .

Arthur paused a moment and gave his wife a condescending look that set her blood to boiling.

"Molly dear, you know that magic cannot bring back the dead, nor does it allow us to communicate with those that have passed on."

"Arthur, as I've just explained, I didn't commune with the dead. I was visited by a very much alive, Harry Potter."

"Did he speak to you?"

"No, Arthur"

"Has he contacted you and any way since the night of Easter past?"

"No, Arthur."

"Are you still having trouble sleeping at night?"

"You know that I have, though I fail to see why that is relevant?" Molly added indignantly.

"Molly, I think it should be obvious to you? What with Collin's death and the funeral still fresh in your mind, coupled with your poor sleep pattern, ie… you were obviously dreaming." he finished condescendingly.

Molly's mouth fell open. "Dreaming? Arthur it was an epiphany: A spiritual revelation. It wasn't a dream."

"You, yourself, said that you experienced flashes of old memories and the feelings they stirred within your heart. That sounds like a dream to me sweetheart, unless...? " his voice drifted off and he had the beginnings of a knowing smirk on his face.

Molly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Unless...what?" she asked in a calm, but cool voice.

"Well, er, that is,.." Arthur began to stammer nervously. "It's not unusual for a witch as she gets a bit older, to experience changes, er,. hormonal changes. I, um, understand that they, not to say that I'm implying anything you understand, but,… I understand that witch's who are going thru their, er.. change,... well, they get a bit over wrought, psychologically and emotionally speaking. Witches in this state are more prone to wistful, fanciful thinking. The mothering instinct kicks in to overdrive, you see. Now, with this in mind, coupled with the loss of a child,… well,.. it's only natural that you'd be having trouble with…?" he continued on oblivious to the daggers his wife's eyes were shooting at him.

"Arthur?"

"Wha…, er, yes dear?"

"Thank you so much for setting me straight. I didn't realize I was letting my, er,. emotions, get away with my better judgment."

"You're very welcome, dear. I am pleased that you're taking things so well. I know my own mother was beside herself when she realized she was going thru the 'change of life'."

"Yes, I'm sure." Molly agreed cocking an eyebrow at him.

"One last thing, Arthur?"

"Anything, Molly dear?"

"Wellll, since I'm so overwrought with the "change" and all. Would you be a dear and remove your things and any evidence of your existence from my bedroom when you get home this evening, or better yet, why don't you go visit your mother!" Molly snapped waspishly.

"But, Molly; you know mother's been dead these past ten years."

"I do, Arthur." She bit out before pulling her head back out from the fire and terminating the floo call.

"The prat actually thinks I'm deluded!" she huffed angrily to herself.

She put a kettle on to make tea thinking it might calm her temper. At least most of the family would be home for dinner on Sunday.

"Change of life indeed!" she hissed into her mug of tea before drinking.

**Hogwarts**

Having finished their tests, Ron and Hermione would be going home for the weekend.. Ginny was staying at school as she had some studying to do before she took her last test for Care of Magical Creatures, on Monday. Ron and Hermione had dropped the course after sixth year as they'd lost interest in it. She knew that their reason was only partly true. They may have lost interest, but they still went when Hagrid was teaching the class. His death had soured them on continuing the class after.

Hermione Granger moved quickly down the empty hallways toward her destination. It was peaceful and quiet within Hogwarts. Many of the sixth and seventh years had already left for home this weekend, having finished their exams. It was an odd contrast to weekends and holidays of years past. Many families had feared to bring their children home from school or even to let them venture out on Hogsmeade visits during the war. Death Eater attacks were prevalent on these occasions and there was no place safer for children than Hogwarts, especially when Dumbledore was still alive. With Voldemort gone, the magical world was now a safe and happy place to raise a family.

As she made her way to the potions classroom, she reflected on her brief, but unsettling meeting with the Headmistress, only moments before.

Professor McGonagal had been patiently awaiting her arrival. She knew this as the professor's desk was curiously devoid of any paperwork and McGonagal ,herself, was sitting quietly in a rocking chair by her office window, sipping a cup of tea. The headmistress seemed wistfully lost in thought. She barely acknowledged Hermione's arrival at her office by telling her that the potions classroom keys were on her desk, including the access key to the potion's supply cupboard.

Hermione retrieved the keys and stammered her thanks as she turned to leave the headmistress's office. She turned to find herself staring into McGonagal's wise and oddly mischievous gray eyes.

The professor smiled knowingly and said. "You have two hours Miss Granger. I expect that you'll have lunch with me here at 12noon sharp, yes?"

"O-Of course professor." She stammered before she hurried from the office. She couldn't help but think that the professor, much like her predecessor, knew exactly what was going on within her school at all times.

She mentally chided herself for the thousandth time for not having procured enough _batwing lace _the first time, forcing her to ask an already suspicious Headmistress McGonagal for the keys to the potions locker for a second time.

_She couldn't know what I'm planning, could she? _Hermione thought to herself. She chided herself for her anxiety.

_Of course she doesn't. She couldn't possibly have any inclination that I'm using a bit of the school's potion supplies to make polyjuice. Still, she had made a rather unsettling reference to the use of poljuice potion, just the other day when she'd pause to chat with her after dinner. McGonagal had also given her odd, knowing looks, when she had confiscated Ginny jumper the night of the attack._

She discounted these musings as just nervous anxiety over her planned course of action.

_McGonagal couldn't possibly suspect that I'm going to use polyjuice potion to identify the person responsible for rescuing Ginny in Hogsmeade. _

Not for the first time she thought herself fortunate that her father had gotten her interested in biology. No doubt her father had envisioned his daughter joining her parents in their dental practice one day.

That was before they'd received her letter of acceptance from Hogwarts.

Her knowledge of biology had proved useful in typing the blood she'd found on Ginny's sweater.

She couldn't be a hundred percent sure that it wasn't the blood from one of her attackers that she'd procured from Ginny blood stained garment. She had matched the blood type against her known attackers; Flint, Goyle and Crabbe's school records showed that none of their blood types was a match against the type on Ginny's sweater. Ginny and Collin's blood type hadn't matched either. By all accounts, Collin hadn't been wounded in the fight, but she had checked his blood type on record, just to rule out any possibility that it was his blood staining Ginny's sweater.

She often prided herself on her thoroughness.

Hermione unlocked the potion's room and relocked the door behind her using an obscure locking charm to further ensure her privacy. She retrieved a small amount of _batwing lace from_ the potion's locker and added a pinch of it to the now finished sample of modified _polyjuice potion _she'd brought with her. She made sure that she had everything she needed with her. She had checked and rechecked the sample of blood taken from Ginny's sweater just to make sure. This was one experiment she didn't want to chance. Hermione still had nightmares of her last _polyjuice_ mistake: _That awful cat's tail she'd had to endure for an entire week!_

Hermione disrobed and wrapped herself in one of Ron's old dressing gowns. She wasn't going to chance overgrowing her own garments. For all she knew she could find herself transforming into a Goyle sized individual, which would leave her cloth's in tatters. Ron had cocked a leering eyebrow at her when she had asked for his robe, but seemed satisfied, even proud, when she'd blushed and stammered how she wanted the feel of him near when she was alone in her dorm room.

She found herself blushing again at her audacity.

It had only been a white lie really, she did intend to keep the robe.

Hermione stood in front of a large mirror above one of the potion room's many sinks, where students spent the majority of many a class cleaning the residue of failed experiments from themselves. She withdrew from her satchel a vial that held the few precious and still viable blood cells she'd obtained from Ginny's blood soaked sweater. She carefully uncorked the vial of _polyjuice _and added her blood sample to its contents.

The _polyjuice_ churned and bubbled going through a multitude of color changes until it finally settled upon a beautiful, blindingly bright hue of liquid silver. She stared with shocked eyes at the potion. It was nearly perfect except for barest hint of a night black streak within its core. She almost thought the streak was a trick of the light as it seemed to diminish and then pulse back to life as she swirled the potion within the beaker. It was almost as if the dark streak was in a constant state of flux with the silver. Though vastly overwhelmed by the radiant silver, the darkness tenaciously clung on to its existence. It was like watching a battle of good against evil. Though good was suppose to be stronger than evil, it never quite seemed to be able to totally extinguish evil's influence and drive it from existence.

_I hope you know what you're doing_, her eyes said with trepidation. She took a last look at her face in the mirror before downing the contents of the potion. Hermione had barely swallowed when her skin began to bubble and writhe .It was an agony to feel her bones enlarge and elongate. Moments later after the change had occurred, Hermione found herself on her knees gasping for air.

She felt terrible. A frighteningly, gnawing ache pulsed in her lower side. Curious as to the source of the aching, she pulled back her robe to see a putrid, grayish-purple wound eating away at her flank. The area pulsed unnaturally and she knew, knew for a certainty, in her heart and in her soul that this was the origin of the blackness that clung to the silver within the _polyjuice's_ essence. This was the very essence of the person that the potion mimicked.

The pain of the wound was all but unbearable. She almost retched from the intensity of it.

Hermione glanced down and felt her face heat embarrassedly. The subject of her transformation was a male-obviously.

She gathered her resolve and continued her evaluation:

His legs were well muscled.

His abdomen flat and well defined.

His arms were strong and corded with steel hard muscle.

Despite the pain from his wound, his body rippled with strength and confidence. Never had Hermione felt so strong and agile. She marveled at the confidence that this man's development assured.

_Now for the hard part, _she thought.

This was the part she both quivered with anticipation over, and yet dreaded with every fiber of her being.

She knew in her heart what she might find. Even before she looked, she dared hope that it was so. Part of her also dreaded all the possibilities his continued existence might entail.

She raised her, no, his eyes up to the mirror in front of her.

She could not account for the difference in the hair and face, but...

**His eyes-** looked back at her in the mirror.

His beautiful green, despairing eyes.

They were the eyes of her friend, her brother.

Eyes that always held such warmth and love, yet were ever troubled, always burdened with the weight of the world.

These eyes were those same eyes only now they were filled with pain; a terrible pain that was beyond physical and emotional suffering. These were tormented, haunted eyes that begged for release.

Hermione wanted desperately to tear herself away from the mirror. To look somewhere, anywhere else, but into the depths of sorrow and loneliness that were enshrouded in those eyes.

Like jolts of electricity, visions of the past year assaulted her:

_The white roses on the Potter's graves._

_Charlie's rescue- his hearing Harry call to him from the nether. _

_Charlie's mysterious arrival at Hogwarts- all the way from Romania. _

_Ginny's rescue._

_The feeling she herself and Ron had of an angel watching ...over.. them…_

"Oh God, Harry!" She wailed mournfully as she crumpled to the stone floor as wracking sobs engulfed her.

An hour later found Hermione Granger stumbling to the headmistress's office, blinded by her own tears. Her bushy hair was more frizzy and unkempt than it had ever been in her entire life. Her clothes were rumpled and miss buttoned.

The stone gargoyle that guarded the stair to McGonagal's office was already standing aside as she approached: A fact that she was unconsciously grateful for as she wouldn't have been able to recall the password for entry, not in her current state.

She couldn't recall climbing the stairs, nor how she made it this far from the dungeons for that matter.

The distraught girl stumbled thru McGonagal's office door without pausing to knock, mumbling,

"P-Professor.. I..."

"Hermione?"

"M-Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione barely formed the startled question on her lips before she felt herself engulfed in one of Mrs. Weasley's fierce hugs. Though bewildered, she found herself grateful for the comforting security that she found in her surrogate mother's embrace.

"What's wrong dear? What's happened that has you so upset?" Molly asked tenderly as she continued to rub circles comfortingly on Hermione's back.

Hermione hiccupped several times before getting out only a questioning,"It's .. well,… w-why are you here?" her own question spilled out instead.

Mrs. Weasley turned a questioning eye toward her hostess and answered, "Surprisingly, I was invited by Minerva to tea today."

McGonagal , for her part, seemed preoccupied with a spot on the wall and was avoiding eye contact with the suddenly suspicious, and somewhat formidable witch standing before her desk.

_Molly had confided in her about receiving a strange visitation that led her to believe Harry Potter was still alive. Now, they needed Hermione's input before they were ready to embrace the truth. By the look of things, Hermione was more than ready to share some surprising information._

"Miss Granger, why don't you take a seat and tell us what has you so troubled?"

Moments passed before Hermione was able to collect herself enough to answer her waiting headmistress and surrogate mother.

"I-I know I shouldn't have, b-but I had to k-know?" she hiccupped before continuing. "I made a m-modified version of _polyjuice_ potion and u-used it on the blood sample I took from Ginny's sweater; the sweater she was wearing the night she and C-Collin were attacked."

Hermione didn't hesitate for a second in admitting her blame. She knew full well that she could be expelled from school for having brewed _polyjuice _without authorization, let alone her thefts from the Potion's locker to make said illegal potion.

Molly Weasley's face was a mask of shock. She chanced a look at McGonagal expecting to find the Headmistress livid from the admission of so many school rules having been violated. She couldn't have been more stunned to find McGonagal smiling serenely. Her eyes were alight with knowing anticipation.

"What did your experiment reveal?" The Headmistress asked benignly.

The words poured out from Hermione in a torrent of emotion.

" P- Professor. Oh, M-Molly.. it was him. He looks different… his face, but, I'd know his eyes anywhere. H-He's in terrible pain. There's something wrong with his side, b-but it's not just that. I-I think he knows,... knows what I did? T-There's such incredible loss and loneliness in his eyes. Oh, God! What have I done to him,... to them?" Hermione wailed in abject misery as she buried her face in her hands.

Molly Weasley's face was ashen. She grasped Hermione's hands and pulled them away from the girl's face. She looked into Hermione's soft, tear wrought eyes and asked the question she both hoped and dreaded that she already knew the answer to.

"Who's blood was it on Ginny's sweater? Whose eyes did you see when you looked into the mirror after using the _polyjuice potion_?

"H-Harry. Please, you've got to believe me? It was Harry!" Hermione sobbed, nearly hysterical.

Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione into a fierce hug and let her own tears of pain and joy fall uncontrolled. "I believe you, dear" She consoled.

"As do I..." McGonagal added.

Molly Weasley stiffened at hearing her friend's near admission, but continued to hold Hermione tenderly in her arms, though that did not stop her from turning bitter accusatory eyes on the Headmistress.

"You knew. All this time you've known, haven't you?"

It wasn't so much a question as a condemnation.

McGonagal met her eyes with a sympathetic look in her own.

"No." She answered truthfully. She had not known all this time, just for the past year; a technicality, but a truthful one.

Hermione's sobbing had softened when she heard the vein of their conversation. "W-What do you know?" She asked somewhat confused.

McGonagal pursed her lips and considered. She had orchestrated these events to a degree and now she was at the precipice.

She had not betrayed Harry's trust up to this point. Not the spirit of that trust, which she held inviolate.

She had not revealed his identity, but she had also done nothing to dissuade his family from gleaning the truth. Harry's empathic contact with Molly Weasley had been his own undoing, he could not blame her for that gaffe.

If she answered their questions she would be violating his trust, and that was something she prized more than anything else in this world.

Harry would never trust her again, hate her even. Poppy would also be included in that mistrust and hatred by proxy.

_Can I risk alienating him? _She would be cutting off his one port of refuge. If she abused his trust he would never again seek her and Poppy's aid; no matter how dire his need.

_Can I risk doing that to him? What if I do nothing? How long could he survive before Voldemort's taint either destroyed him or turned him evil? If he should be killed, then what? Can I risk his soul?_

"Minerva?" Molly was growing impatient and edgier by the moment. She could see deep set emotions warring within the Headmistress's hooded eyes, but frankly, she didn't care. Nothing mattered but Harry right now. Nothing in the world was more important to her at this moment.

Minerva McGonagal looked deeply into the eyes of her most prized student and one of her most cherished friends, and carefully answered as best she could.

"Before I answer you, let me first ask you this question; If Harry Potter were still alive; knowing him and feeling about him the way that you do, what would his trust be worth to you and would you ever violate that trust?"

"Everything and never." Hermione automatically blurted out before she even thought to consider choosing her words more carefully. Knowing that her mistake may have cost her dearly, she began sobbing again in earnest.

Molly Weasley was more cautious in her answer. "Normally, I would agree with Hermione, but I, unlike her, have been a parent for many years and know the responsibilities adherent to that blessed undertaking. As a parent; sometimes we must break our word to a loved one, if it is for their own good. Sometimes we must consider what is best for all concerned. As a muggle writer once so eloquently quoted: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

Molly continued to pat Hermione comfortingly on the back as the young girl sobbed. Her eyes pleaded with McGonagal's , silently they begged her to ease her family's pain.

McGonagal's eyes were misted, but resolute. "Needs, yes. I understand about the needs of the many. Every day I must consider what is best for all concerned. What you say has bearing, but again, I ask you Molly; would you implicitly trust in Harry?"

Molly Weasley slumped dejectedly into a chair still clutching Hermione's hand. "Y-You know that I would."

Hermione began to sob louder. Some part of her realizing that Molly's admission was dooming their efforts before they could even begin.

"Hermione, please try and get a hold of yourself. You're usually the clever, logical one. If ever your family has need of your intellect it is now. **SO GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF !"** McGonagal growled at the distraught girl, shocking her to quiet down and regain some semblance of her composure.

"Mm, sorry, professor."

"Quite understandable, but cooler heads are needed if you are to prevail." the headmistress admonished before continuing.

She chose her words very carefully. "In the past I gave my word to Harry Potter, and I keep that word even today. It was not a blood oath or an unbreakable vow, but it just as well might have been for it was and still is, 'sacred to me'. As you yourself said so eloquently, Hermione; Harry's trust was and is, worth everything. Living or dead, would you have me break my vow to one we all held so dear?"

"I would, if his life and the lives of those he cares for were in jeopardy."Molly spoke up incredulously.

"The night that Ginny was kidnapped by Voldemort and Harry was unconscious, were you going to tell him Ginny's fate when he awoke? Knowing him as you do, knowing how he would respond, would you have told him?" Minerva's tone all but scolded.

Molly held her gaze for a moment her lips quivering as she tried to make them spit out a lie. She soon gave up the fight and lowered her eyes in defeat, whispering,"No"

"Then how can you sit here and ask me to do the same?"

"Why professor?" Hermione began questioning.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione cocked her head to one side and repeated. "Why? Why did you have Molly come here today? Obviously you knew something was amiss. On some level you must have suspected what I was about to uncover? If it goes against your principles than why didn't you stop or misdirect us?"

McGonagal smiled winningly. "At last we come to it. Take 10 points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Bloody Hell, take a hundred! I was beginning to wonder when that marvelous intellect of yours would show up. As I said, I have given my word not to reveal certain,er, truths. However, I never agreed to prevent others from learning those truths." she smirked slyly.

Hermione distressed featured melted into a cunning expression. She shared a meaningful look with Molly Weasley. The latter smiled knowingly and asked. "Keeping that in mind, what can you tell us?"

"What can you tell yourselves?" McGonagal countered.

"That Harry is still alive, or, at least he was, as of the days preceding last Easter Holiday." Hermione began hopefully.

She watched McGonagal closely for any reaction to her words. Her hopes went unrewarded.

"He was alive on Easter." Molly corrected. "In some strange fashion he communicated with me that night. It was as if he was speaking right to my very heart. His soul touched mine. I don't know how else to explain it? It was like,… it was like when you hold your own new born child in your arms for the very first time, there's this connection, this bonding." Mrs. Weasley explained with a dreamy look of wonder on her face.

McGonagal raised a questioning eyebrow and pressed further though, she already knew the answer.

"Are you sure it was Harry Potter?"

Molly Weasley narrowed her eyes dangerously her voice was a cool, no nonsense hiss that had Hermione cringing away from her seniors.

"I know all my children, Minerva. This one perhaps better than I know the rest of them all put together. He was not born of my flesh, but of my heart. I know it was him. I've felt him in my arms as I've cradled him to my heart. **It-was-Harry-Potter!**"

McGonagal nodded to the Weasley matriarch. "And you, Hermione?"

"Yes. As I said before; his face was different and he's changed, but his eyes, those were Harry's eyes. I'm sure that it was him."

"I see." McGonagal pretended to consider for a moment before adding. "Well, it appears that you both have already told yourselves quite a bit already." She said airily. Her eyes alight with mischief.

"I have the feeling you could tell us more?" Molly chided.

"Perhaps,.." McGonagal began, "but, as my esteemed predecessor often said,"Teaching is not simply revealing the answer to life's mysteries, but giving direction and letting others learn wisdom along the way."

McGonagal was expecting any number of questions, pleadings, or even threats, for more information. She did not, however, expect Hermione Granger to turn tear threatening eyes on her and ask worriedly, without any further pretence:

"Does he hate us for what we did to Ginny? Does he hate me?" She asked in a torn, dejected voice.

The headmistress's heart clenched for the girl. She wanted to, needed to give the girl some hope, any hope, but how to do so without completely violating Harry's trust? Any direct answer to Hermione's question was an obvious admission of having knowledge that Harry's existence continued and she was already, '_splitting hairs'_. The girl was in so much pain, she had to say something? She couldn't leave them this way.

"Before you collect Mr. Weasley and return to the Burrow for this weekend, let me at least give you this bit of advice." she began consolingly. "If Harry Potter did in fact raise the legendary _Phoenix Fire, _he did so out of love; a love that transcends anything that we perceive it to be. I'm not talking about **the** fall in love, get married and have children sort of love. Though that is something we all strive and yearn for and if we're very lucky, we just may find it. No, what I'm talking about is the selfless love; the kind of love that drives a person to give up their own life, or worse; their very soul in the attempt to save another. I think we can all agree that Harry Potter had that sort of love, and had it in spades. That sort of love does not die easily, if at all. That is the sort of love that the _Phoenix Fire _supposedl_y _requires. The sort of person I'm describing, if they even exist, does not love easily, but once he or she does, they will always hold those they love within their heart. That sort of person could forgive anything of someone they love- **anything**,…. though it might take a bit of time and soul searching to accomplish. Do I describe someone you once knew?" McGonagal smiled warmly in reassurance.

Hermione Granger wiped her eyes and breathed out, "Harry"

"Indeed." McGonagal confirmed.

After a few vague pleasantries, she rose from her desk and ushered the two witches from her office. Once they had cleared the stairway and entered the deserted corridor beyond she turned to her quests.

Her warm eyes turned cool and her smile faded as she left them with this warning.

"Understand this before you begin the quest that I'm sure you both are seriously considering to undertake. _Phoenix Fire _is describedas being a gift that is both "wondrous and terrible". Using such immense power, no matter how noble the reasons, no doubt comes at a very high price. Before you tell the rest of your family what you perceive to be true, consider this; If Harry Potter is in fact alive, there may be a very good reason, or reasons, that he has remained anonymous, even to those he cherishes above all others. The reasons for such behavior can be many. I submit the possibility that knowing Harry as you do,… what does someone like Harry, someone with immense love and power, what does he do for those whom he loves?"

Before either could even begin to consider to answer, she turned on her heal and strode back thru the doorway to her office. The stone gargoyle that guarded the entryway to her office sprang to life and blocked the entrance after she passed.

Hermione turned to Mrs. Weasley with fresh tears falling from her eyes as she blurted out in frightened revelation. "Oh my God, he's protecting us!"

"From who..? Mrs. Weasley stammered as she clutched Hermione's hands apprehensively.


	18. Chapter 18: The Seeker's Heart

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Eighteen: The Seeker's Heart**

**Hogsmeade**

Ice blue eyes watched Ginny Weasley as she ran out of the supply store, paused for a moment and ran back into the store. He had all but given up that she would make an appearance on this last Hogsmeade weekend. Draco was about to signal his men to withdraw when at the last possible minute, Ginny Weasley came pelting up the cobbled street and ran into the school supply shop. She reemerged a few moments later with her purchases in one hand and a flower clutched tightly in the other.

He realized with a chuckle where she was headed and considered for a moment chancing a repeat of their previously failed plan to kidnap her.

_No, I dare not chance that her 'would be savior' make another timely appearance. Once I've learned the nature of my enemy, then I can risk a confrontation. Besides, this should prove amusing and the rewards are negligible. _He thought lecherously as he watched the attractive young girl hurry down a side alley. She paused briefly and lay the flower she held on the pavement. The red headed girl bowed her head as if in silent prayer. After a few minutes, Ginny wiped furiously at her eyes and trotted out of the alleyway and back toward the cobbled street that led back to Hogwarts.

On cue, two simultaneous "POPS" sounded next to the startled girl. Ginny instinctively reached for her wand- too late.

Strong hands grabbed her arms and held them securely. She twisted and kicked at her assailants to no effect. Ginny tried to yell for help, but a strong hand clamped over her mouth and stifled her screams. She felt a rough hand grope at her side and felt her pulse race, suddenly panicked by the realization of their intentions. She thrashed wildly, trying to free herself. Giving up after finally exhausting herself, Ginny slumped in despair and tried her best to stifle a moan as she felt the hand withdraw and heard her wand clatter on the cobbles some distance away. She was lost.

"What do you think you're doing? Unhand her you swine!" A red streak of light sailed past the taller of her two captors. She heard one of the scarlet robed wizards swear in alarm as he turned on his heel. The other one, that was still holding her, clouted her on the side of the head, knocking her to the ground.

Ginny saw stars , but struggled to remain conscious. Her two kidnappers began firing hexes back the way they had come, apparently at her intended rescuer. She heard a grunt of pain and the clatter of his wand as it hit the street. Her assailants surged forward eager to finish the wounded man. She had to do something, anything. She tried vainly to shake the cobwebs from her head. Her blurry eyes searched for her discarded wand.

"Ughh... Urg!" she heard grunts of pain and looked up in time to see the taller of her two attackers falling to the street, clutching at his throat, his eyes bulging in fear and pain. The second attacker was trying to level his wand on the wounded wizard who had injured his partner. Before he could shout a _curse_ the man spun in place and kicked his leg out ,catching the scarlet clad wizard with his booted heel on the side of the man's head. the second of her assailants twisted in the air and crashed to the cobbled street with a loud **Thunk!**

With both of her attackers down, the man whom rescued her dived for his fallen wand. but before he could turn it on her injured attackers, the scarlet robed wizards port-keyed to safety with twin, 'POPS'

"Bloody cowards!" The man swore before he turned back and made his way cautiously toward her. She cringed back reflexively. The man quickly pocketed his wand and held his hands out openly at his sides. "It's alright. I won't hurt you." he promised.

He stepped into the light of a street lamp and lowered his hood. Long, white-blond hair cascaded down onto the man's shoulders. His features were thin and angular, his eyes icy blue.

"Draco, Draco Malfoy?" she gasped in disbelief. This was the last person in the world she would have though capable, let alone willing, of rescuing another.

The man nodded and asked formally. "Ginevra Weasley?"

Ginny nodded.

If being rescued by Draco Malfoy, of all people ,wasn't surprising enough, what happened next was downright shocking.

Draco kneeled down on the muddy cobbles, (oblivious to the stains they would certainly make on his always pristine clothes), and asked her with more compassion then she had ever thought him capable.

"Are you alright? Did that vermin hurt you?" his eyes were full of concern.

The presence of such tenderness, in Draco Malfoy's eyes, so unsettled her that she took a moment before she gathered her wits and stammered. "N-No, just stunned."

He offered her a hand up, wincing slightly from the effort as she regained her feet. She scanned his arm and saw a ragged wound just below his shoulder, dripping blood.

"You're hurt."

Draco glanced at his right shoulder and shrugged dismissively.

"It's nothing."

Ginny pulled her light scarf from around her neck and reached for his injured arm. He pulled back slightly and tried to reassure her.

"Don't trouble yourself, it's just a scratch, really."

"Don't be stupid." She huffed and set about bandaging his arm with her scarf.

He pursed his lips and bit back whatever retort he would have made, wincing in pain from her administration.

A small smile curled at the edges of his lips as she tied off the makeshift bandage.

Once she'd finished with his bandage, Ginny retrieved her wand. She pointed her wand at the edge of his wound and said."_Episkey_."

He moved his free hand toward the bandage, but she reached out and pulled his hand back.

"You'd better leave it on for now. That was a deep wound and I doubt a simple healing charm will have repaired it completely, but, it should hold you until we can get back to Hogwarts and have Madam Pomfrey look at it."

Draco smiled warmly and offered his, "Thanks"

A sheepish smile graced her pert features. Soft, brown eyes looked up into icy blue ones and said…

"No, thank you. They would have done God knows what, if you hadn't come along when you did."

"Who were they and why were they after you?"

Ginny's brows knit together. "Honestly, I don't know? This is the second time they've attacked me though. The first time, Collin he…", her voice trailed off sadly."

"Ah." Draco sighed in understanding. "Yes, I remember reading about it in the Prophet. Mr. Creevey died protecting you then?"

"Y-Yes." Ginny stammered, trying to block the memory from her mind.

"Then we are all indebted to him. He died bravely, a true Gryffindor."

Ginny's mouth worked soundlessly in surprise. She had always expected certain things from Draco, but never compliments, and certainly not ever expecting him to play the hero and save someone else, especially her.

"I-I really should be getting back to Hogwarts. I'm already late for curfew."

Draco bowed graciously and offered, "I would consider it a favor if you would allow me the pleasure of seeing you safely back to the school this evening?"

"T-That would be lovely." _Did I just say that? To Draco Malfoy?_

"I'm Honored." Draco replied charmingly and offered her his arm.

Ginny hesitantly linked her arm with his and they set off for Hogwart's at a casual pace, chatting idly at first, and then gradually discussing more sensitive issues.

"What were you doing in Hogsmeade this evening?" Ginny began innocently.

Draco's eyes grew distant. "I was visiting the graves of a few friends that are buried in Hogsmeade cemetery.

Ginny's stance stiffened, causing him to pause and look at her questionably.

"What , you mean Crabbe, Goyle and Flint? "She blurted suspiciously pulling her hand from his arm.

"Certainly not." Draco barked indignantly. "Those contemptible swine received their just reward."

Still on her guard, Ginny pressed. "They were the ones that attacked me last time I was in Hogmeade. They were dressed up in those same scarlet robes and wearing masks like the men who tried to grab me tonight. I got lucky because someone saved me that night too. Collin wasn't so lucky. They were all friends of yours in school, weren't they?"

Draco inclined his head slightly in agreement, but countered. "We were thrust together by our father's wishes, but we were hardly friends. We, er… had a parting of the ways when they chose to follow in their father's footsteps and become Death Eaters. I chose another path."

"What path?" Ginny asked startled.

"Not the one my father chose in following Voldemort, I can assure you. For my defiance my father had his cohorts beat me,... rather severely. When I still refused to join, Voldemort ,I was banished from my home and barely escaped with my life. I studied abroad and finished my education last year. Thanks to your friend, Potter, I was able to return to my home after Voldemort and my hated father were finally defeated. I am, and shall ever be, grateful to Harry Potter's memory for that. I hadn't the opportunity before, but, I would like to extend my condolences to you and your family for your profound loss. I believe Potter was close to you as well as your brother, yes?"

Ginny's eyes clouded vaguely at his reference. "We were acquainted of course, but never much more than that. He was a close friend to my brother Ron, and Hermione Granger, of course."

"Ah, yes. The golden trio, I believe they were called? A well earned name, for such a valiant threesome. I am indebted to them for my freedom, as are we all. I would consider it a favor if you would permit me to call on your family, one evening, to extend my condolences. When we return to Hogwarts I shall make it a point to thank your brother Ronald, and Hermione Granger, as well, for their role in helping to save the wizarding world."

"They're away for the weekend." Ginny confided. She clasped her hands behind her back, feeling more at ease than she had before, but still kept her wand in easy reach. They resumed walking quietly down the path toward Hogwarts.

After a bit, Ginny chanced continuing their conversation on a more pleasant note. "My brother has tickets for the Quidditch Playoffs this evening. He and Hermione are going to the Chuddley game."

"Lucky." Draco answered. Seeming sincere, he added. "If Potter had survived, no doubt we'd be enjoying watching him play professional quidditch now. He was a gifted seeker. I understand that you and your brother are also doing quite well. Any chance that we'll be watching you play professionally next season?"

Ginny glanced at him slyly from the corner of her eye. _If I didn't know better, I'd think that Draco was trying to get on my good side? _she thought.

"Actually, yes." Ginny smiled. "It's always been a bit of a dream for Ron and I. McGonagal said that several teams have expressed an interest and will be contacting us after we graduate."

"Excellent. I shall look forward to seeing you both play one day."

They continued on this way for the rest of their walk, forging what, …a friendship?... something more?

**Chudley vs. Podmore**

"_Hello fans this is, Lee Jordan,coming to you live from Chudley stadium, the home of the Cannons! It's a beautiful night for quidditch. The Cannons are holding a one game advantage over Podmore, thanks to a brilliant catch by Chudley's star seeker, Alan Brandt." _

The stadium roared in applause at the mention of the Cannon's famous seeker.

"_Yes, folks, much of Chudley's success is due to their acquisition of Brandt in the off season. A relative unknown in the wizarding world, Brandt, as many fans know, is muggle born and having traveled for much of his youth, he was exclusively home schooled by, his now deceased, parents. Brandt, by all reports, has never received a formal magical education. What he lacks in wand work, he more than makes up for on a broom as he has never failed to catch the snitch to date. Alan Brandt is widely rumored to be in the top running for this years, Quidditch League MVP award!"_

The crowd's cheers soon turned to boos.

"_Ah, yes. I can tell by the fans reaction that the rival, Podmore team, has taken the field. Podmore, is anchored by the solid chaser trio of: Grafton, Davies and Flynn. Former league co-MVP's: Jones and Taylor, are the beaters. Jeffries at keeper and the lovely Ms. Jessica Gable is the team's seeker. Rumors around the league have Brandt and Gable pursuing an off-field romance, but judging by the way these two compete, I'd say those rumors are just that. There's no love lost between these two folks."_

"Come on, Hermione, the match is about to begin."Ron huffed in exasperation.

"Well." She scoffed indignantly. "Who was it that insisted on waiting in a half mile line just to get a picture of himself with a life sized cardboard picture of Alan bloody Brandt? That's the only reason we're late, Ronald."

"Language , dear." Ron chided with a smirk.

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously, but refused to dignify his reprimand with a retort. Several muttered apologies later, (for disturbing fans already seated), they squeezed into their 'nose-bleed' seats and settled in to watch the game.

Ron was bobbing in his seat excitedly. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. _"Boys will be boys", _her mother always said every time her father was glued to the telly for a rugby match_._

Hermione scanned the pitch with her _omnoculars, _they didn't have the magnification of muggle binoculars, but they allowed the user to slow down and replay the action viewed through them. They were kind of like having a binoculars and video camera all in one.

The crowd surged to their feet and roared in applause.

"_That's right Chudley fans…" _

Lee Jordan's voice boomed out across the stadium.

"_Here come the Cannons! At chaser we had the lightning quick passing of Franklin, Dempsey and Valdez. Beaters for the Cannons are this year's favorites for the all England team, Banyan and McCloud. Rumored to be in his final year before retirement; is the long time Keeper and team captain, Harris Smith." _

The crowd noise level rose to an all time high, drowning out further commentary from Jordan.

Hermione could just make out Ron screeching next to her.

"It's him, Hermione. It's Brandt!"

The crowd took up a chant of their own. "Brandt! Brandt! Brandt!"

"_The snitch had been release and there's the quaffle."_ Jordan's voice echoed thru the stadium as the crowd finally quieted down and resumed their seats for the start of the match. Now that no one was blocking her view, Hermione scanned the players trying to get a glimpse of the Chudley seeker that had everyone, (including her boyfriend), in such a frenzy. The two seekers were a blur as they raced back and forth across the pitch searching for the elusive snitch.

_God, they're fast! _She thought in alarm. _Ron's going play at this level? Is he insane? _

She had always thought quidditch looked dangerous in school, but the pros played much, much faster.

_Some of the chasers have to be playing at a 100 kmh and the seekers must be pushing 150! _

"_Podmore takes the quaffle after a nice goal by Valdez. Flynn passes to Davies and whoa! Davies takes a bludger to the right shoulder from Banyon. That's gonna leave a mark in the morning, folks_." Jordan's voice continued its commentary.

"How can you follow this?' Hermione huffed in exasperation.

"Great isn't it" Ron shouted next to her, bobbing excitedly.

Hermione caught a few glimpses of the seekers as they passed the south goal. She dialed down her _omnoculars _to their slowest replay setting and caught her first glimpse of the Cannon's seeker.

_So this is the player that Ron's been bending my ear over the past two semesters. _

He didn't look like much, really. Brandt appeared young, no more than twenty. He was about six feet tall and maybe 80-90 kilos. His hair was medium length light brown, his eyes appeared a darker, muddy brown color, but it was still difficult to make them out as even at the slowest setting. They're speed of play was breath taking.

The crowd surged to its feet and began screaming wildly. Lee Jordan's voice could barely be heard above the noise, shouting,

"_They've spotted the snitch!" _

Hermione gave up on her replay and turned the _omnoculars _up to normal speed. The seekers were going so fast that she couldn't keep them in the _omnoculars_ limited field of site so she resumed watching the game 's voice took up the commentary as she strained to keep up with the action on the pitch.

"_It's absolutely unbelievable ladies and gentlemen. Both seekers are continuing to accelerate and were last clocked at nearly a hundred and eighty kilometers per hour. The snitch is barely maintaining its lead an,... Merlin's Bouncing Balls! The snitch tried to escape down the visitors tunnel and the Chudley seeker continued right after it. A wise move by the Podmore seeker to veer off at the last second; Brandt's bound to plow himself on one of the vendors down there. Huh,... er, sorry about that last Merlin comment to you parents in the audience."_ Jordan apologized seemingly embarrassed.

_"Ah, as I was saying- the snitch flew into the concession area and the Chudley seeker continued right after it, hot on its tail_."

Muffled shouts of warning and a few scattered screams could be heard coming from the interior of the stadium. Suddenly a flash of gold came from the same visitor's tunnel followed closely by black and orange streak.

"_I don't believe it? I simply don't believe it?"_ Jordan shouted in stunned disbelief.

"_Not only did Brandt make it out of the concession area unscathed; he somehow managed to return the way he went in, staying on the snitch's tail and in his hand he's holding what looks like,... it is, it's a bag of roasted peanuts! I wonder if he paid for 'em?" _

Jordan could be heard mumbling to someone in the background before his commentary continued.

"_You're not gonna believe this folks, but, it's true! I swear it is. I've just been informed that Brandt_ _snatched the peanuts from a vendor on the way in and on his return pass out of the concession area, he dropped a sickle on the vendor as he flew by and shouted back to him, " keep the change!"._

The crowd roared in laughter, even Hermione chuckled at that.

"_Gable's rejoined the chase for the snitch and she's neck and neck with Brandt as they make their way around the pitch. There's a lot of bumping and jockeying for position going on out there. Wow!_ _There's a good display of sportsmanship. Brandt just offered a peanut to Gable. I say,... that's rather poor form. It would seem Ms Gable was un-amused by gesture, and knocked the bag of peanuts from Brandt's hands. Like I said before the game, there's not a lot of love lost between these two, folks. Hey, that's a dirty foul! Gable just shoved Brandt into the luxury box section and- Merlin's Mighty Member? Brandt dived off his broom before it hit the box wall. He caught it on the ricochet and swung up onto the broom like a gymnast, landing on his feet. He's riding that broom like it's a bloody surfboard! Does anything ever stop this guy?" _

Jordan was understating matters. Hermione watched the seeker's antics with the same awe and shocked disbelief as the rest of the crowd. That and something more... Some part of her, some buried memory or gut instinct vaguely recognized Brandt's style of flying.

_It was like... Harry's. It has that same reckless quality, but, magnified a thousand times. The man's flying defies all sane logic of self preservation. It has that and also the same absolute love of flying that Harry had._ _The silly antics and overtly dangerous maneuvers are something out of character, but at the same time, similar. Brandt has this carefree, devil may care attitude in his flying. _

t was, it was so reminiscent of Harry's flying, only amplified to the extreme with a touch of an, 'I don't care if I live or die' attitude thrownin for good measure. Riding a broomstick on your feet was beyond reckless, it was absolutely insane!

Hermione looked over at Ron anxious to get his input. His mouth was hanging ajar, his eyes popping as he watched the Cannon's seeker. She didn't bother to ask his opinion. His face already gave her all the answer she needed. He was as stunned by the man's flying as the rest of the crowd. For the first time since the beginning of the seeker's duel, she realized that the crowd was as shocked into silence as she was. If not for Jordan's commentary or the shouts of players on the pitch, the stadium would have been as quiet as a tomb.

"_The seeker's aren't letting up , folks. They've pushed their brooms into a nearly 90 degree climb at close to 200 kmh. _

_Wait!... What's this? Gable's in trouble. Her broom's given out and she's in a free fall from over a half mile up. Even if she could get her broom restarted she'd never be able to pull out of a fall like that in time. There's just too much gravity working against her…" _

Jordan paused solemnly, and then continued.

"_The chasers have cleared the pitch. You can't blame them. No one could chance catching her at that height, not without killing the both of them in the process... _Jordan's voice broke of dismally.

"_Merlin's Angry Arse! Brandt's given up the snitch and has pulled his broom into an inverted loop! _

"_Is he totally insane- he's going to make a try for her?"_

"_Gable's given up her broom and spread her arms and legs trying to use the wind resistance to slow her fall." _

"_Christ! Brandt's really pouring it on." _

"_The spotters have him clocked at nearly 300 kmh!"_

"_Even if he could catch Gable, he'll never be able to pull out of that dive._" -Jordan paused hopelessly.

The crowd's stunned reaction had dissipated and now cries of fearful denial could be heard echoing thru the stands

"_There's just too much against him,I'm afraid. Her extra weight, their increasing speed and angle of descent,... gravity…?" _

_"He's nearly got her..."_ his excitement was starting to show despite the dire circumstances.

_"They're only about 400 meters up and he's reached a speed of 350 kilometers per hour."_

_"**He's got her!" **_

Jordan's excitement was short lived as he reached the same dark conclusion as the rest of the pensive crowd.

"_I'm afraid it's still hopeless, folks. It's a black day for Quidditch. Neither one of these fine seekers has a chance of surviving. I suggest you parents out there have your children turn away."_

Hermione watched in horror as Brandt caught the falling Podmore seeker one handed. The crowd gasped in relief but soon screams and cries of denial echoed throughout the stadium. The crowd began to come to the same conclusions as Lee Jordan: the seekers were both doomed. She looked to Ron for solace. His knuckles were white as he clenched the backrest of the seat in front of him. His eyes wild and raucous. He began screaming,

"Pull up! Pull up!" As if on cue the whole stadium took up the chant.

"**Pull up!... Pull Up!... Pull Up!" **

It was a wish... a prayer even.

Hermione could hear the screaming of his broom as he fought desperately to break and slow down its descent.

Brandt had Gable cradled in his left arm. She hung like a limp doll in his grasp. She was unconscious by the look of her.

Hermione watched as Brandt began to do the impossible.

The broom's _breaking charm_ had allowed him to alter the trajectory of the broom's descent just enough for him to attempt something beyond belief. While cradling Gable under his left arm he pulled himself into a squatting position on the broom stick. He shifted his weight to the tail end and pulled back with his free hand on the nose of the broomstick.

Hermione held her _omnoculars_ up for a better view. Brandt was straining with everything he had, desperately trying to prove Newton's theories wrong.

The man's face was a snarl of primal rage as he pulled back on his broomstick.

His back arched, the corded muscles of his neck were pushing the veins of his throat to the surface.

She could almost imagine seeing his racing pulse as it pounded through his dilated blood vessels.

The whine from his broom was ear splitting and the crowd covered their ears from the pain of it.

300... 200 meters.

The broom began to give way ever so slightly. He'd gained a few more degrees of horizontal control...

"_He's down to 180 kilometers per hour."_ Jordan's voice rang out in desperate hope.

"_**Come on. Come on!"**_

Hermione increased the magnification of her _omnoculars_, focusing on Brandt's face. There was something there? Something… that drew her in and wouldn't let her go?

" 50 kilometers per hour... 130... 110…

"_They're at a hundred and twenty meters... __**Come on!**__"_

Hermione could feel her heart beating wildly.

Ron was screaming defiantly next to her.

Brandt, the look of concentration on his face,something flashed in his eyes. Hermione adjusted the replay on her _omnoculars. _There was something there, she was sure of it.

She replayed the last few seconds in slow motion.

"_**80 meters and sixty kilometers an hour."**_ Jordan screamed hopefully.

_"There's a chance... **Come on!**"_ Jordan prayed along with the rest of the stadium and listening audience.

Mere seconds seemed like hours.

The world stopped turning.

The stadium held its breath, anticipating the impact that would kill them both.

_The replay,.. his eyes... a flash of... green?.. Green eyes? Oh... my... Go.!_

Hermione Granger surged to her feet in sudden awareness.

A desperate scream ripped from her throat.

"**Pull up! For the love of God, Pull.. Uppp!" **She screamed furiously.

Brandt screamed as he gave a last mighty heave on the tip of his broomstick. The nose had pulled up just enough to keep from plowing them into the ground, but there was no way they weren't going to impact against the grassy turf of the pitch.

Sensing this, at the last possible second; Brandt pushed off from his broom and twisted himself in the air. He cradled Gable's unconscious form on his chest and wrapped his arms and legs protectively around her in a cocoon like fashion.

With a heart clenching "**thud**" , they hit the turf.

They skipped once, twice, thrice; before plowing through the grass, tearing up a great gout in the lawn like a meteor impact.

They skidded to a halt on the far north side of the pitch.

The crowd held its breath in anxious prayer.

Medi-wizards flew out onto the field, but they were so far away.

The silent crowd held its breath in horror.

That's when something truly unbelievable happened.

Alan Brandt rolled onto his hands and knees and shook his head as if clearing the cobwebs. He gathered up Gable's still unconscious form into his arms and struggled to his feet.

The crowd began to cheer wildly.

Hermione fainted into Ron's arms.


	19. Chapter 19:Not all Secrets are the Truth

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Nineteen: Not All Secrets are the Truth**

**The Burrow**

Hermione woke up at the brink of dawn as the first rays of light began to break over the pink horizon, spilling thru the window of,...

_Ginny's room? What?... How did I..? _

She tried to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. Her mind search her memories...

_The match;_ _Alan Brandt saving that other seeker, no, not Brandt! The eyes? Green eyes. Harry's eyes. Alan Brandt was Harry!_

Hermione jumped from her bed and struggled into her night dress as she flew from the room. Her thoughts were filled with anxiety.

I_ need a cup of tea_. _On second thought, a glass of fire whiskey would be better. _

Hermione brushed down the two flights of stairs to the Burrow's living room and grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey from Mr. Weasley's desk. She'd never drank before, but now was as good a time to start as any. Hermione made her way to the kitchen to retrieve a glass from the cupboard, but froze in the doorway.

"Well, Good Morning Hermione, dear." Mrs. Weasley greeted her warmly.

Mrs. Weasley was busily preparing breakfast for her still sleeping family, and as such, was oblivious to the 'deer caught in the headlights' look that was on her surrogate daughter's face.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, dear. Ronald was very worried about you after you fainted. He carried you home last night. I told him that he was not to worry, that it was just all the excitement from the match; no doubt mixed with the strain of studying for your N.E.W.T.'s. You over do it, Hermione." she continued to prattle on reassuringly.

"I've seen him, Molly." Hermione blurted.

Molly Weasley's back stiffened and her hand paused in midair as she was reaching into one of her cupboards. She did not turn to face Hermione as she rasped. "Seen who?"

She knew the answer before she asked, but she wanted to, no,…needed to hear the words spoken aloud.

"I've seen him, Molly. I've seen Harry." Hermione answered anxiously.

Molly never turned around, and at first, Hermione thought that she had not heard her answer. She was about to say more when she noticed that Molly's back was beginning to shake. A strangled sob escaped her surrogate mother's throat.

Hermione stepped up behind Molly and wrapped her thin arms around Molly's waist and placed her cheek against her back as she held her tenderly. She needed comforting as much as the woman she now embraced. Both women sobbed quietly for a few minutes. Suspecting was one thing, seeing another.

It was real now… Harry was alive.

Molly broke the tearful silence first by asking. "Did you see him at the game last night?"

She could feel Hermione nodding against her back before Hermione added, "He was in the game last night."

Molly's back stiffened and Hermione tightened her hold reassuringly.

"That seeker? He's that Cannon's seeker that everyone has been going on about isn't he?"

Molly could feel Hermione's arms pull back from around her waist as she gasped in shocked surprise.

"How did you know?"

Molly turned around in to face the younger girl and grasped her tear streaked cheeks in her hands. Looking into soft brown eyes that were far too young to have already seen so much pain, she answered...

"Ron. After Ron brought you home he told us about the game about the Cannon's seeker and what he did last night. He told Arthur and me how Chudley's seeker forgot about winning the game and risked his own life to save that girl from certain death. I remember thinking to myself at the time; 'that's just what Harry would do'. Then, when you said you saw him in the game, I simply put two and two together. Besides, who else but Harry could have pulled off the absolute miracle of getting Chudley into the playoffs." Molly finished with a chuckle and kissed the young girl softly on her forehead.

After a moment Molly's eyes took on an uncertain, but hopeful expression.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Y-Yes." Hermione stammered before continuing. "At least I think I am."

"Think? Think isn't good enough, Hermione. We have to be absolutely certain about this. This isn't some ordinary bloke we're talking about here. The Cannon's seeker, this Brandt character, is a national quidditch star. We can't very well go around making accusations without any proof. If we can't back up our story, we could find ourselves in a world of trouble."

"I-I know, Molly. It's just that, if you were there? If you had seen?" Hermione struggled to find the words to express the emotions of what she'd witnessed last night.

"I understand from Ronald it was quite something to see." Molly added incredulously, encouraging her.

Hemione snorted a laugh. "That's the understatement of the year."

'Please, tell me about it?" Molly encouraged further.

"Oh. Molly, it was unbelievable. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I would have never believed it. Up till a few days ago I would have sworn that there's no one alive with that sort of courage, no one but Harry would have ever even dared such a thing, let alone pull it off."

"Our boy was something, was he?" Molly chided.

"Molly , he was… he was magnificent! He was larger than life." Hermione began excitedly.

The words poured from her mouth as she thought back to last night's event. "He awed everyone in that stadium to speechlessness. I watched him through my _omnoculars. _It was so terrifying, but yet so exciting. I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was one of those moments. One of those rare, once in a lifetime moments when you see someone do something so incredibly brave, so undeniably selfless, that you know in your heart that not only will you never forget that moment as long as you live, but you'll be a better person because of it."

Molly's heart soared. She searched the young girl's eyes as if she was looking for a glimpse of what they'd been fortunate enough to have gazed upon.

"Tell me more. Tell me everything."

Hermione told her everything:

She told her every detail of the previous night's quidditch match.

She told Molly how Brandt rode the broomstick, standing on his feet. How he blasted down the tunnel and through the concession area and came back out moments later, eating a bag of peanuts!

At first Molly's eyes went wide in wonder and amusement, but gradually they took on a more troubled appearance.

Hermione continued to describe everthing she'd seen, oblivious to the change in her friends reaction.

"I remember thinking as I watched him that there was something reminiscent in his flying. There was something that niggled at the back of my memory I started to think back and remembered how Harry used to fly. I thought about how Brandt's style of flying was similar, yet more reckless. It was almost as if he flew like he didn't care if..."

"As if he didn't care if he lived or died…" Molly echoed in foreboding, finishing the young girl's thoughts.

Hermione paled in sudden understanding.

As much joy as she reveled in knowing that Harry was still alive and her certainty that she now knew where to find him, there was the beginnings of an icy dread that crept into her thoughts and stole away her sudden joy.

"Ron told you that?"

Molly nodded her head. "He was rather excited at the time, and I must confess, I was rather caught up in the moment myself. I never dreamed until this moment that his enthusiastic assessment was an accurate one."

"What should we do?" Hermione asked her voice beginning to strain.

"For now, nothing except to continue as previously planned. Fleur and Bill will be arriving for lunch today. We should have ample time to discuss certain matters with Fleur beforehand. After we've fed and watered the boys, we can then move in for the kill. However,.. for the time being I think it's best if we keep our suspicions concerning Mr. Brandt's alter ego amongst we ladies. The men in this family tend to be recklessly impulsive at times. It's one thing to stir up a hornet's nest, it's another thing entirely to kick a hole in it."

"Agreed" Hermione echoed, cottoning on to the concerned direction of Molly's thoughts.

**After Lunch**

Fleur had taken the news well, a bit too well in fact. Though she had no proof of her own it would seem that Fleur's empathic abilities could never quite accept the reality of Harry's death.

"Eit ad never felt right."she quoted to Hermione and Molly.

_Her reaction; as to Hermione's suspicion that the Cannon's star seeker was actually Harry Potter in disguise? _

" 'Arry was always a great flyer, but this fellow 'e iz ow you say it? Ze lunatic in ze air! Still, although et iz almost too obvious to think zat 'Arry would be hiding right in front of us, eit iz almost genius in eit's simplicity."

Hermione's eyes went wide. Fleur's statement triggered something she'd forgotten. She knew there was something about Harry's very public display of anonymity that was niggling at her memory. A puzzle piece just clicked into place as she gasped out.

"I'd almost forgotten. There was a book that Harry used to be very fond of that dealt with stealth and concealment. He'd told Ron and me about it once. He said the book gave him ideas."

"What does that have to do with this Hermione dear?" Molly asked skeptically.

"Maybe nothing and maybe everything?" Hermione suggested with a knowing smirk. "Harry said the title of the book was, 'Hidden in Plain Sight'."

Molly's eyebrows shot up in surprised understanding.

Fleur chuckled in agreement."Az I said, almost genius in eit's simplicity."

"I'm right about this, I'm sure I am." Hermione added excitedly.

"Let's not count our chickens before they're hatched." Molly began cautioning. "Our suspicions need to become fact before we dare to even think about confronting him. As difficult as it is to imagine that Harry would not come back to us if he were able. It's even more difficult to believe that he would let us go on believing he was dead. There's a reason for all of this."

"Gin-nee?" Fleur offered suspiciously.

Hermione's eyes lowered as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

Molly reached out and tenderly lifted Hermione's chin in her hand. She smiled reassuringly and said.

"Now don't you fret over this. What's done is done, and it was for the best. Always know that Arthur and I are very grateful for what you and Ronald did for Ginny. Harry may see things differently, but I still don't think that, in and of itself, it would be enough to motivate him to take such drastic measures. Ginny's love was very important to Harry, but I don't think losing her love would so embitter him that he would let the rest of us needlessly grieve. He might be angry with us for what happened to Ginny, but he would never be so cruel as to let us think he was dead. No, I think there's something more to this? Something that may be very dark and terrifying?" she questioned worriedly.

Fleur snorted disbelieving. "Nothing iz so terrifying that 'Arry would not face it; ze boy iz the very essence of courage. I have zeen great courage. I can feel it in my heart. Bravery iz very attractive to ze veela side of me. It iz one of the thingz that first attracted me to Bill. All the Weasley's are zo brave, but 'Arry?... he is az a lion amongst dogz. Bravery and nobility, these emotions radiate from 'em. He was as alluring to the veela side of my nature as other men are drawn to ze veela- **irresistible**!" She licked he lips hungrily for effect to accentuate her thoughts on the matter.

Molly for all he bluster was actually blushing.

Hermione , though momentarily stunned, composed herself and continued the discussion.

"Yes, well,… whatever the reason? It was something that obviously kicked that pronounced 'nobility complex' of his into overdrive. I don't know the reason, but I do know one thing, he's alive. I think he's masquerading as Alan Brandt. I don't have any proof to back up my suspicions, only my instincts. I could be totally wrong. I'm not one hundred percent sure. I'm not sure of anything other than I want my friend, I want my brother back."

That said, Hermione could no longer hold back her tears as she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly in her frustration.

"There- there." Molly consoled as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's shoulders. "We all know how you feel. I was having a terrible time accepting Harry's death too. I think now that the reason I wasn't able to come to terms with it because somewhere in my heart, I still knew that my boy was out there and that he needed me, needed all of us. Then, on Easter night when I felt him reach out to me,it was a gift beyond measure. I felt his overpowering love for me. It was as if his heart had spoken to mine. It was a gift that only a mother could truly appreciate the magnitude of. As glorious as it was, it was that terrible as well..."

"Why iz zat, Molly?" Fluer asked pensively.

Molly felt Hermione stiffen in her arms and hesitated to answer. Still they had the right to know.

"I don't know how he did it exactly, some form of empathic communication, I would guess. It was like he poured all his memories, of the two of us, into my heart. I could feel his love and appreciation for me on such a level that it was breathtaking. Then, he did something else, something that made my heart clench in fear. He tried to give me the impression that he was at peace, that he was happy. The very second I felt him communicate that message to me; I knew it for what it was-**a lie**. It was a patented "Harry Potter- I'm fine" if ever I've heard one." She made quotation marks in the air for emphasis.

"He started pulling away from me and I reached out to him and held onto his presence with everything that I am. That's when I felt it."

Molly paused, her face paled and she began to cry out her words.

"I felt the depth of his despair. H-He's in such terrible pain,... such loneliness. I'm a-ashamed to say that I almost let go. I-I was so shocked by the depth of it that, G-God help me, I almost pulled away from him. He fought with me. His spirit struggled to break away from my own, but I clung on for all I was worth. I remember thinking afterward that; it was like that night? That terrible night he left us. Remember, w-when the boys all tried to wrestle him down and k-keep him from going after Ginny? I couldn't get the memory out of my head as he struggled against me. I tried to hold onto him. I t-tried to make him feel how much we loved and wanted him, but he finally tore away from me. It was worse then. It was worse than it ever was before. That was the moment that I truly felt I had lost one of my own. One of my children..."

Lunch was a happy, sumptuous affair. The men laughed and chatted good naturedly. Ron continually regaled his brothers with a recap of the stunning play of the Cannon's seeker during last night's game.

Alan Brandt's heroic display had made the front page of the Daily Prophet and he was currently the talk of the wizarding world.

"The Prophet said Brandt broke his shoulder and several ribs, but that Gable only suffered a mild concussion." Charlie put in.

"Not surprising." Ron agreed. "I don't know how he managed to keep from breaking his neck, really. When it was all over, every one sat there stunned, afraid to breath. We all thought they'd both bought it in the crash. Then, despite everything, as busted up as he was, he pulled himself up and carried Gable to the medi-wizards. It was unbelievable. Bravest thing I ever saw, next to Harry o' course."

The women at the table exchanged apprehensive, but knowing looks at this comment, but the men continued to talk amongst themselves, oblivious to their silent exchange.

" What was his flying like, little bro?" George began

"Yeah, is he as good as Harry was, or Krum even?" Fred pondered.

"Better" Ron choked out between mouthfuls of potato salad. "He flies kind of like Harry used to, only this guy flies like he doesn't care if he lives or dies."

"A nutter, huh?" Fred put in.

"Absolutely barking!" Ron agreed.

Again the ladies present exchanged a look, only this time Arthur Weasley caught a glimpse of his wife's startled reaction and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Is something wrong, Molly dear?"

"Wrong?" Molly feigned innocently. "Why no, Arthur…what could possibly be wrong when I've got _almost_ all of my boys here today?"

Arthur smiled warmly at his wife and nodded his agreement.

The smile slipped from his face minutes later as he and his son's took their discussion into the living room.

_Almost all? All of our son's are here today. Why would Molly say almost all of them? _He thought worriedly.

Minutes later, the ladies joined there significant others in the living room.

Molly Weasley cleared her thought and drew the family's attention.

"Now, to get down to business." she began by using her no nonsense voice.

The men in the family recognized her tone and sat up a little straighter as all conversation halted.

"We; Hermione, Fleur and myself, have asked you all home today for a reason. We have come to a rather startling conclusion that we feel is imperative to bring to your attention."

"If it's so important to the family; then why isn't Ginny here as well?" Percy inquired in his usual overly polite manner.

"I think you'll understand Ginny's absence once Hermione has explained something to you." Molly replied vaguely. She turned her attention to,

"Hermione, if you would tell them what you've discovered, I think they'll understand."

Hermione stood up to address them. She paused for a moment to organize her thoughts and gather her Gryffindor courage, before beginning.

"I think I should describe events chronologically starting with Charlie's rescue at Christmas and proceed to the present. I think that will help everyone put things in better perspective." She explained before continuing:

"As we all know, Charlie was rescued under rather mysterious circumstances last Christmas. Charlie, himself, remembers little of what happened, other than being gravely injured in a battle against some crimson robed, 'Death Eater' types. The next thing Charlie remembered was waking up in the Hogwart's infirmary..."

"That, and hearing Harry's voice calling to me from the other side,when I was dying. " Charlie added firmly.

Hermione smiled and continued. "Yes, I was going to mention that. Ron and I had been talking that day and we had discussed this feeling that it felt like there was an angel out there watching over us, protecting us. I remember us saying how we wouldn't be surprised if Harry was an angel now, maybe even: our guardian angel? Later that same day, we visited Harry and his parent's graves. Curiously, there was a pair of white roses on his parent's graves and nothing left on Harry's. Ron had mentioned that Harry always left a white rose on each of his parent's graves whenever he visited them at Christmas time. We had thought perhaps; Remus, had continued this tradition as he was the only other person we knew of that had known about this practice of Harry's. Later we talked to Remus and he had denied any knowledge of the incident. Besides the roses, there were a few droplets of blood in the snow, and Ron surmised that the person that had left the roses must have pricked there finger on one of the rose's thorns. I don't know why I did it at the time, curiousity, I guess, but, I collected a sample of the blood on the Potter's grave."

Hermione paused for a second as her eyes settled on her boyfriend. She knew that he would be troubled by her actions. His face darkened, but other than that, he remained silent and she continued to try and explain her actions. She hoped he would understand once he heard the whole story. After taking a few deep breaths, she continued:

"It was something that I regretted at the time as I felt I was intruding on someone's grief, but it's also something that I've come to be very glad I did, in retrospect. I hadn't thought any more about this incident till the night that Ginny was attacked in Hogsmeade. Again, I think we can all agree that she was rescued, like Charlie, under rather mysterious circumstances?" she paused taking note of several nods of agreement from those gathered.

"I collected Ginny's things to return to her dormitory and found that in so doing, I found that her jumper was ruined, soaked with blood. The blood, however, was not Ginny's. I know that because I had kept a sample of the blood staining her sweater, before I threw the sweater away. We already knew that Goyle , Crabbe and Flint were the ones that attacked Ginny and were subsequently killed by her rescuer, or rescuers. I took the sample of blood and compared it against Crabbe , Goyle and Flint's school records. The blood type, on the sweater, did not match theirs, nor did it match Ginny's- I checked. It was at this point that I fully considered the possibility that the blood was actually that of her rescuer? On a fluke, a notion, an instinct, call it what you will? I compared it to the sample I'd taken in collection from the Potter's gravesite." She paused in trepidation.

"And?" Arthur Weasley asked anxiously. He had slid forward in his seat in anticipation.

"It was a match." Hermione said with a look of triumph on her face. "A perfect match. I had my father check them just to be sure and he said they were a perfect genetic match, which means that the two samples are from the same person."

"Did the samples tell you who that person is?" Percy asked.

"No, it doesn't work that way, not unless you have a known person's genetic sample to compare it with? However, in the magical world there are other ways to identify a person, if you have a genetic sample of theirs to work with."

Ron's face paled slightly as he suspected where she was going with this.

"You didn't?" he said in a pained, suspicious voice.

"Did what?" Fred asked.

"I used a modified version of _polyjuice_ _potion_, mixed with the matching blood samples, on myself." Hermione stated flatly.

"What, but that's illegal? You just can't...?" Arthur Weasley began in exasperation.

"Be quiet, Arthur" his wife cut him off and he fell silent after a moment's consideration. It simply was not worth incurring the wrath of his wife over something he couldn't change.

"Who did you become when you used the _polyjuice_, Hermione." Molly Weasley asked innocently.

Hermione hesitated for a moment. Her eyes searched out Ron's .His were troubled, frightened even. She knew this was going to change things for them. In many ways this was going to be as much of a sorrow as it was a joy. She couldn't begin to understand her own mixed emotions on the subject. She only knew one thing; she wanted her brother back. As much as she loved Ron, the two of them were not complete, not without Harry. People used to call them the 'Golden Trio', and for good reason. They would be that again, and more, if she had anything to say about it?

She held Ron's gaze, willing him to understand, to accept.

"The face was a bit different. His hair was lighter and straighter, which is something else that I can't account for, but, the eyes were the same. I know it isn't what most people would consider definite proof, but I know those eyes. I've looked into those eyes a thousand times and I would know them anywhere."

"N-No..." Ron breathed in tortured understanding as he lowered his face into his hands and stifled a sob.

"Who's eyes?" Bill asked worriedly.

"His mother's eyes." Hermione answered with conviction. "The emerald green eyes of, Harry-James-Potter."

The Burrow erupted in pandemonium.

**Hogwarts**

Ginny Weasley made her way back to Gryffindor tower from the school's owlery, having sent off her reply with a large barn owl. She didn't know how her family was going to react to this, especially Ron, and quite frankly, she didn't care. She was of age now and could do as she pleased.

Ginny returned to her dorm room and began revising for her final N.E.W.T. exam, scheduled for tomorrow morning. She paused for a moment to admire the large white rose that adorned her desk. The rose had arrived with a wonderful note, carried by a gray eagle owl. Ginny paused to read the note. She couldn't remember if it was the eleventh or twelfth time she had read it already.

_Ginny-_

_I cannot recall the last time I had a more enjoyable stroll on the Hogwart's grounds, nor a more charming and lovely woman to share it with. I find myself enchanted with thoughts of the time we shared and humbly beg you for the honor of allowing me to escort you to dinner on the evening of Friday next? Please accept this rose as a token of my appreciation. _

_Your Servant, Draco Malfoy_

Ginny breathed a soft sigh in anticipation of her date with Draco this Friday at the Leaky Cauldron. She had written a reply that she would meet him there, having avoided the issue of him calling for her at the Burrow. She didn't think her family was quite up to that just yet. None of her brothers, or her father for that matter, had ever been great fans of the Malfoys. That had been Lucius's doing, not Draco's. Now that his father was gone, Draco was free to be himself, and what she had seen, of the real Draco thus far, she had liked. He was handsome, after all, sophisticated, worldly even, yet polite and compassionate. She had found him to be a perfect gentleman during their walk. Most surprisingly of all, she had found Draco Malfoy to be a heroic figure.

Draco had risked his life saving her last night, and without a wand yet. Her heart soared at the memory of Draco fighting off her attackers bare handed. Not for the first time, since last night, did she consider the possibility that Draco was in fact; the hero that had come to rescue the first time she was attacked in Hogsmeade. After all, how many wizards were out there that could defend themselves without the use of magic, let alone risk their lives for someone else. Draco had definitely proven that he was worth getting to know and the fact that he was also handsome, brave and rich, were definite bonuses.

**Malfoy Manor**

Draco snatched the note from his servant and greedily read its contents. An oily smirk etched his narrow features as he considered what he read. The note was brief, but contained everything he'd hoped for in a reply, though he'd never really doubted the success of his planning.

_Draco,_

_I would be delighted to dine with you on Friday. I shall meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at 7pm. _

_Affectionately,_

_Ginny_

_Merlin's wand! Were all the Weasley's such gullible fools! _He thought. _If I had followed this tact originally, I'd all ready be in the Weasley's.-'inner circle'. Ah well, hindsight.. I suppose I should inform that fool, Morvis, of my progress?_

Draco walked to the hearth and threw in a pinch of floo powder.

"Morvis at Crimson Keep." he intoned flatly.

Draco could feel his head suck into the twisting floo network. At last the spinning , disembodied sensation came to a halt and he found himself viewing a dimly lit drawing room , somewhere in Eastern Romania.

"Morvis?" Draco called.

A darkly clad, hooded figure stepped in front of the hearth.

"You mean, Lord Morvis." the figure answered stiffly.

"As I said before, such titles must be earned." Draco countered.

"Do not press me, Malfoy. My time is valuable and I've little to waste on your petty word games. I have honored my word to you. Have you returned the favor? Have you made any progress with the Weasley's, or learnt the identity of their mysterious defender?"

"As you know; the original attempt to kidnap Ms. Weasley failed. It is my belief that she was rescued by this same mysterious mage that vexed you and all but brought your plans to ruin at the Dragon Reserve."

"Your belief?" Morvis hissed in echo. "I am unconcerned with beliefs, Malfoy. I require facts. Beliefs are for acolytes and fools. Facts are for conquerors.

Now then..." Morvis continued with a threatening undertone that was unmistakable. "do you have any facts to support your claim? I caution you before you answer that I am already aware that all three of your men were killed during the failed kidnapping attempt on Ms. Weasley,... and that they were dispatched by non-magical means."

Draco's eyes narrowed contemptuously, but he kept his voice even when he answered. "They were killed by a skilled warrior, one who is obviously adept at unarmed combat; however, he was skilled in magic as well. After he dispatched my men he transported Ms. Weasley to the infirmary, at Hogwart's, directly."

"He apparated through Howard's wards? Morvis blurted in shocked disbelief.

"Apparated- no. At least not as we know it? I have reliable witnesses that claim to have seen this stranger transport Ms. Weasley by use of a _portkey. _As for himself, he traveled by another means. The witness claims he disappeared in a flash of lightning. It sounds as if he employed some... er, '_elemental'_ means of transportation. I believe you indicated that the interloper at the Dragon Reserve, traveled in such a fashion. Therefore; I submit this stranger, that my men encountered, to their misfortune, is the same wizard that dealt with you lot at the Dragon Reserve. After all, I hardly think it coincidence that two such individuals could be gallivanting around by such a method of travel, let alone be protecting the Weasley clan at the same time?" He offered incredulously.

"Quite." Morvis agreed tightly. "Though one could hardly call your testimony factual evidence, I must confess arriving at the same logical conclusion. Have you made any progress in infiltrating the Weasley clan?"

Malfoy smirked knowingly. "Actually, yes, I am currently dating Ms. Weasley and will be dining with her this Friday evening. I am confident that I will be able to insinuate myself into the Weasley's good graces within a few weeks."

Morvis stroked his chin as if in thought, " Hmm, a few weeks is a bit tight, but doable. If we could but glean the stranger's secrets within the month, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone, as it were."

"You have plans , milord?" Draco asked in a well schooled, innocent, yet flattering voice.

"Indeed, yes." Morvis chuckled in a cruel show of good humor as he bragged: "Our recruitment goes well. I have many new servants fawning for the honor of wearing the crimson robes of a Blood Warrior. The dragons we purloined are now trained and heed only our commands. Giants, trolls and even a small grouping of Dementors have flocked to my banner. I myself have come upon a rather **valuable asset** that I shall train for battle- personally. I have a plan for my small, but growing army. A plan that will not only announce our presence as the new power in the wizarding world, but , will also indelibly etch itself in the minds and memories of wizards for generations to come. If all goes as planned we will strike at the end of July. I am pleased with your progress thus far , but you must proceed with all haste in your investigation. You have until the third week in July to learn the identity of this interloper. In order to better enable you to bring your investigation to fruition; I shall be sending you six of my best men to assist you and act as your, er... personal guard. Do not fail me. Morvis out."

The fire died and with it, Draco's feigned compliance. _Yes, by all means; send six of your finest spies and assassins. _He thought icily.

_I'll have them in my pocket and answerable to only me by the end of the week._

**The Burrow**

Hermione descended the worn stairs of her second home, thinking to find Ron waiting for her with his parents. He was supposed to return with her to Hogwarts by 5 pm and it was already half past four. She arrived in an empty living room, not surprising as the rest of the Weasley siblings had already left for their perspective homes. Hermione did not anticipate the site of Ron's travel satchel propped against the front doorway. She quickened her pace and went into the kitchen. finding Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quietly drinking tea, and conversing in hushed tones.

" I-Is something wrong?" Hermione asked them fighting down her own sense of growing dread.

Mrs. Weasley shifted her eyes to her husband and he took his cue, answering. "I'm afraid Ron has is in a bit of a state right now. That was, after all, quite a bombshell you dropped on us today."

"He's a bit confused at the moment, Hermione dear. Why don't you have a word with him? I believe you'll find him out by the pond." Mrs. Weasley prompted. There was something of pleading in her voice.

"Y-Yes, of course. " Hermione stammered before exiting the kitchen.

Her eyes scanned the garden worriedly for any sign of Ron as she made her way through the garden, as she wound her way toward the Weasley's pond. She rounded the hedgerow and spied him sitting at the end of the pier. Ron was sitting with his back to her as she approached timidly. She was nearly to the pier when she noticed his head was buried in his hands and his back was trembling.

_He's crying_. _Is__ he happy?_

Surely these were tears of happiness?Though it was a tremendous shock for everyone, they all seemed thrilled with the prospect that Harry was still alive. His best friend was alive.

_They could be whole once more,… couldn't they?_

Hermione stepped softly onto the pier and called to him. "Ron?"

Ron's back stiffened in the sudden knowledge that he was no longer alone He answered her in a strangled voice. "P-Please go away, 'Mione."

Her heart clenched and she could feel tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't remember a time that Ron had not sought her out when he was troubled, let alone send her away. She fought down her tears and padded cautiously forward.

"Please, Ron, we're supposed to be back at Hogwart's soon? Please tell me what's wrong, luv?"

"I-I'm not going back." Ron blurted out thru a stifled sob.

Hermione paused skeptically. "Of course you're going back. We only have a few more days of school. Surely you'll want to finish with top marks? You've worked so hard for that all year."

Ron twisted around to face her. An angry snarl marred his usually kind face. "Bullocks-my marks! I can't go back. How can you stand there and think I'd go back after,… after. ?" his voice choked off and he twisted back away from her and began sobbing into his hands.

"Oh, Ron..."

Hermione closed the distance between them. She knelt behind him and gently wove her arms around his shoulders. He tried to shake her off, knowing him he was ashamed that she was seeing him in a moment of weakness. She loved him for it all the more. Hermione held him in her arms, refusing to relinquish her grip and eventually his protestations subsided and he slumped back against her in surrender. Hermione gentled his neck with feather light kisses and cooed softly to him that everything would be alright.

He shook his head dejectedly and rasped. "Nothing is going to be alright, nothing. Not till Harry's home with us where he belongs. I have to find him, 'Mione. I can't think of anything else until I do."

"Then I think I better tell you something before you go." Hermione said almost teasingly.

"What?" Ron said with almost a pout .

"I didn't want to say anything, not till I was sure, but, I think I've already found him."

Ron sucked in a surprised breath and twisted around in her arms. His intense blue eyes searched her soft brown ones feverishly in anticipation.

"Where, where is he?"

Hermione smirked knowingly and answered. "Let me say this first. If Chudley offers you a contract like you expect them to, you'd better jump at it. "

Ron's eyebrows knit in puzzlement. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth gaped in recognition of what she was implying.

"What! You can't mean that,... that... Brandt?"

"You said it yourself, Ron. He flies like Harry only more reckless. It's as if he…?"

"Doesn't care if he lives or dies." he cut her off, finishing the thought. Ron's face was ghostly pale. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He'd finally grasped the true concept behind his own words.

"He doesn't, does he?"

She shook her head sadly in confirmation.

Ron pulled himself to his feet and offered her his hand, helping her up.

"Come on." he growled with renewed vigor.

"Where are we going?" she blurted out in surprise as he yanked her along with his toward the path to the Burrow.

"Back to school, 'o course." he answered incredulously, explaining. "I've got to finish before Chudley will offer me a contract. I've always wanted to play for them. It's my dream, now more than ever!"


	20. Chapter 20: Shall We Dance?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter**** characters.**

**Chapter Twenty: Shall We Dance?**

**The Burrow**

The first weeks of summer holiday had proved anything but. The Burrow had been a stealthy hive of activity. A hive: because everyone was busily searching for clues as to Harry's continued existence and where he might possibly be hiding? Stealthy: because all of this activity was being done in secret as everyone was careful to keep Ginny oblivious, for the time being. This proved to be an unnecessary precaution as Ginny was all but a stranger to the rest of her family these days.

Ginny hadn't been out of school a week before she was offered a lucrative contract with the Holyhead Harpies. Other teams had shown just as much interest in acquiring the young chaser's services, but none had come close to matching the Harpies contract offer. When Ginny wasn't training, she was holed up in her room for long hours engaged in a mysterious correspondence. One that was reminiscent of Percy's activities when writing Penelope Clearwater, the summer preceding his seventh year.

Ron had been shown even more interest, than Ginny had, when it came to contract offers from professional quidditch teams. He was holding out for Chudley, as planned, not that there had ever been any inclination otherwise- either way. Playing for the Cannon's had been Ron's dream ever since he'd first sat on a broomstick.

The other interested teams had viewed his reluctance to sign as a bargaining chip, which Hermione had shrewdly parlayed into helping Ron get a very solid and lucrative contract with his dream team. Sadly, not every cloud has a silver lining.

Due to the Cannon's continued playoff drive; training camp for new recruits was scratched in favor of waiting until fall when they could begin practicing with the starting squad present. Undaunted by the setback, Hermione had them using their time wisely whilst they awaited the opportunity of meeting Alan Brandt face to face.

"It doesn't look good does it?" Ron asked dejectedly. He could tell by her expression that the information that she'd received on Alan Brandt's background was not what they had been anticipating.

"No, it doesn't." Hermione agreed, though she remained optimistic.

"According to my father's attorney,.. Alan Brandt's background does raise some question as he does not appear to have existed before 2005? He further states, however, that the use of a manufactured identity is hardly out of character when dealing with celebrities. They do this to secure greater safety and privacy from their overzealous fans. It's a rather common practice in the sports and entertainment industry."

"Yes, but 2005 is at least 2 years before Harry's supposed demise. You don't think he was planning to disappear from public view already back then, do you?" Ron asked incredulously.

"No…" Hermione hesitated before she expressed the full range of her thoughts. "but then again, I would have never, **ever**, considered the possibility that Harry would fake his own death and not tell us that he'd survived. If you look at it from that perspective, it makes sense that Harry would have kept this plan to himself."

"He wouldn't do that, not to us." Ron argued .

"Wouldn't he? I'm not so sure anymore." Hermione disagreed.

"Remember the letters he left for us. He was planning to leave us and face Voldemort alone."

"Yeah, but that's because he thought he was gonna die, not survive and start up another life as somebody else." Ron huffed irritably.

"Are you sure? Look at the facts, Ronald. He's been gone nearly two years and we've not heard a thing from him. No owls, no visits. He left us everything he had in his will. Why would he go to such lengths if he didn't want the whole world, us included, thinking that Harry Potter is dead?"

"If that's what you believe than why are we even searching for him? If he doesn't want us in his life than why are we even bothering?" Ron admonished disdainfully.

"I didn't say that's what I believed. Honestly, Ronald. Don't you pay attention to anything I say?" Hermione huffed indignantly.

Ron had a bewildered expression on his face. "But you said…"

"I said I wasn't sure that he would tell us what he was planning. What I didn't say is that I am sure that he would have never abandoned us. The Harry we knew would have never let us go on believing he was dead. He wouldn't hurt us like that and then turn around and start protecting us. He wouldn't do that to someone he cared about. Not ever. Not.. unless...?" she paused and sniffled faintly. Her eyes were vacant as she considered.

"Not unless something happened to him? Something terrible, that he couldn't, wouldn't tell us about. It would have to be something that Harry felt he needed to protect us from. That's the only reason I could think that Harry would do something this drastic."

"So you don't think it's because of Ginny, then? Not because of what we did?" Ron asked hopefully.

His face and voice echoed his regret over the part he'd played in removing Ginny's memories of her more intimate moments with Harry. They were the memories that endeared him to her. The kind of memories that love is built upon.

Hermione's hand reached out and cradled his chin. She tilted up his face and tender brown eyes met troubled blue ones.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think that at first, but I don't anymore. He might be angry with us, even hate us for the part we played in _obliviating _her memories of him?" she conjectured

Ron began to pull away, but she turned his face back to her own.

"Despite that, I think he would understand and forgive us. I know he would. I n-never told you this. I never told anyone this, but, the night that your mum said she felt Harry's presence,… well,… I did too."

"What?" Ron said aghast. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh,... I don't know." she sniffled. "I didn't know what to think at the time. I thought it was a dream, but now... I'm not so sure."

"Tell me what happened, luv?" Ron encouraged her to open up as he held her comfortingly in his arms. His hand rubbed small circles on her back soothingly.

"I was dreaming about Harry. It was more of a nightmare really. I was searching for him and I couldn't find him. I wanted to explain,... explain about Ginny. I was so upset and then all of a sudden I felt this wave of compassion wash over me. I felt like Harry was holding me in his arms. It felt like he was telling me that everything was okay, that he forgives me.

Oh, Ron,… it was such a beautiful experience. It felt like I was being held in the arms of an angel. I thought maybe he had found a way to visit me one last time. That he was trying to put me at peace with things,... and I was, for awhile."

A smile ghosted across Ron's face. "That was Easter night wasn't it?"

"How did you know?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Because,… you were in such a good mood the next day. I remember thinking that it was the best mood I've seen you in since before Harry passed."

She looked at him incredulously.

"What?... I know; the emotional range of a teaspoon, right?" he chided.

She nodded her head dumbstruck.

"Well, I'm sorry to contradict you, but I'm not a total git? I'm not totally clueless where you're concerned. I love you."

Judging by her reaction to his last statement, Ron would always look back on this moment years later and think that it was the most brilliant thing he had ever said to her.

**Chudley: Home of the Cannons**

It was the first week of July and the Cannons were poised for greatness. Chudley had plowed its way through the semifinals and now a final match against the Romanian Nationals was all that stood between them and the World Cup. At least that's what Alan Brandt thought? He'd never taken into account all that hype that came with the success of a professional quidditch team.

After Chudley's win against the Tornadoes in the semifinals, the team had been informed that they would be facing the Romanian Nationals in Romania. As the Romanian team had the better record for the season, they had the honor of home field advantage. As was customary, for the second place team's country, England would hold the International Ministerial Ball , honoring the two World Cup finalists.

Attendance for the ball was mandatory and players were expected to be attentive hosts. What this meant for Alan Brandt, league MVP and seeker for the Cannons; was that he was expected to entertain guests to the ball. He was informed, in no uncertain terms, that he was expected to greet quests at a reception line, mingle, and yes,.. **dance!**

Harry/Alan was in a blind panic. The Ministerial Ball was only a week away. If the Ministry was holding the Ball that meant that almost certainly all senior Ministerial employees and their perspective families would be in attendance. That meant- the Weasleys. Arthur was the under secretary to Minister Bones. As second in command, he would certainly be amongst those attending with Molly on his arm. With Ron's fervor over all things Chudley, he knew that his former best mate would surely find a way to include himself within the guest list and where Ron went, then, and _God help me, _Hermione Granger would be there as well!

Harry/Alan sent a quick note to McGonagal asking her advice on what he should do about the impending Ministerial Ball? Her reply was far less helpful than he had anticipated. She wrote a one line answer that did little to alleviate his fears.

_ Dear Mr. Brandt;_

_ In response to your concerns regarding the upcoming Ministerial Ball I suggest this course of action; Dance Lessons._

_ Cordially Yours, Minerva McGonagal_

_ Headmistress of Hogwarts _

Harry/Alan was less than amused by her response. Perhaps she didn't fully appreciate the depth of this predicament, although, knowing the headmistress's shrewd nature, he believed she understood quite well. She was just not of a mind to help. He knew well her opinions regarding the Weasley's. In the past she had made no bones about stating that she would not divulge knowledge of his continued existence, but that she would not prevent anyone else, especially the Weasleys and Hermione, from discovering the truth.

Having little recourse, he decided to write McGonagal a more lengthy note detailing his concerns regarding potentially intimate contact with family members on the dance floor. Her next response did more than just not, 'amuse him', it sent him into a rage.

_ Dear Mr. Brandt;_

_I think it quite likely that you will not only encounter the Weasleys ,but Hermione Granger as well. After all, she is conspicuously involved with Ronald Weasley. _

_ As he is now a member of the Chudley Cannons, I would think it a given that he they will be in attendance at the Minister Ball. _

_ In light of this new information ,that you will be not only dancing ,but expected to engage in polite conversation; I should think that a class in proper etiquette would be of necessity along with the aforementioned -dance lessons._

_ Cordially Yours, Minerva McGonagal_

_ Headmistress- Hogwarts ect…_

_ P.S. I am available that evening if you should find yourself in need of an escort._

The message burst into flames the moment he'd finished reading it. The owl that had delivered the message squawked in terror and disapparated in a cloud of feathers.

Until now, he'd been unaware that owls could apparate?

Alan Brandt bolted from the Cannon's training facility. Once out of sight, he vanished as a bolt of lightning struck the spot he'd been standing in.

Thunder sounded ominously in the distance.

**Hogwarts**

Minerva McGonagal had been working diligently all morning on the school's budget proposal for the coming year ,when thunder sounded in the distance. She'd thought little of this, till another thunder peel echoed much closer than the first, then another-still closer yet.

Fawkes trilled a panicked warning and burst into flame, departing in the way that phoenix's traveled. She found it oddly amusing that phoenix's would even register fear, as they were immortal creatures. The headmistress lowered her quill with a sigh and steeled herself as she awaited the coming storm. She didn't have long to wait.

**Thooom! **

The castle quaked as the sound of thunder echoed through the stone hallways. The air around her crackled with static electricity and she could feel the temperature rise uncomfortably in her office. The steel reinforced oak door to her office flew open with such force that the door embedded itself in the wall behind.

Alan Brandt walked into the room wearing nothing but a pair of training shorts. His rigidly muscled arms and torso gleamed with a rich sheen of sweat. His eyes though mostly brown, in appearance, seemed to glow with an inner, emerald hued fire.

"Ah, Mr. Brandt." McGonagal began pleasantly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Have you come to make an old witch's day by taking me up on my offer to escort you to the Ministerial Ball? I am a rather accomplished dancer, if I do say so myself." she chuckled.

Harry/Alan's eyes narrowed coolly and she could feel her pulse quicken. Though nervous, she struggled to maintain an impassive appearance. What he did next surprised her even more. He bowed formally and said charmingly.

"Alas, no, though I am sorely tempted by your kind offer; I find myself unworthy of your hand. On another note; I wonder if perchance you have had occasion to converse with the matriarch of the Weasley family, or any of her close female acquaintances?"

McGonagal fought down the lump rising in her throat. He was on to her and despite his feigned charming persona, she knew this Harry. Though much more mature and sophisticated; this was the Harry that was dangerous. This was the Harry that even Voldemort had come to fear.

_When in doubt, lead with the truth, Albus used to say._

"W-Why yes." she scolded herself subconsciously for letting her trembling voice betray her anxiety. "As a matter of fact I have. By a strange coincidence, it was right here in this very office, only a few weeks before the end of term. Mrs. Weasley and a Ms. Hermione Granger came to see me. They were in a bit of a state, I must say."

"Were they?" Harry smiled wickedly. "I don't suppose that you would be so inclined as to reveal what was troubling the too ladies? Perhaps I may be of assistance in alleviating their distress?"

The edges of Minerva's mouth curled up in a faint smile. Dangerous though it was to play along with him this way, she must confess that she enjoyed this game.

"That's very gallant of you to offer, Mr. Brandt, but,… I believe they now have the matter well in hand. I would be very happy to relay your best wishes to them if you would like?"

Harry's smile faltered slightly "No, that won't be necessary." he replied flatly.

"Will you be contacting them in person, then?" McGonagal inquired innocently.

His smile disappeared altogether and a haunted look ghosted across his features. "No, I think not. I'm afraid that in view of recent events, I've decided a change of venue is in order. I'm going to be traveling abroad after the World Cup Finals.

Minerva was visibly shaken by his announcement.

_The game was over_.

Reluctantly, she dropped the polite pretense. It had been an enjoyable game while it lasted.

"Please reconsider, Harry? If you would only go to them, they'd understand. You could have your family back. You could play quidditch with Ron again. You and he used to dream of playing together after you left school."

Harry was looking out the window of her office. His hands were clenched behind his back. She knew from many times of enjoying that particular view herself that he was gazing upon the school's own quidditch pitch.

His voice sounded distant, monotonous, as he replied. "The day dreams of young boys. The real world in which we live is a harsher, crueler place. There was a time when I would have given anything to play quidditch, and with Ron. That time is past. I'd thought to find a home with the Cannons, but circumstances dictate otherwise. Its Ron's dream come true; not only will he be playing professional quidditch, but for his favorite team: the Cannons. He deserves his chance. If I were to stay, sooner or later things would unravel and we would both suffer because of it. It's for the best that I leave."

Minerva was at least grateful that he was still gazing out the window and could not see her as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"Couldn't you at least play for someone else, another team? You don't have to leave England. This is your home."

A look of melancholy etched his features as he glanced in her direction.

"I could catch on with another team, I suppose. It doesn't really matter. The only real home I've ever known was Hogwarts, or the Burrow… for a couple of precious weeks each year." he added sadly in an afterthought.

"You will keep in touch, wont you?" She asked hopefully.

He remained silent and had a rather stricken appearance.

"Harry, you are going to stay in touch with either Poppy or myself, aren't you?" she repeated in an anxious tone.

His eyes drifted back to the window as he answered hollowly. "No. In view of recent circumstances, I think that unwise."

McGonagal's face paled as she unnecessarily defended her self.

"Why? Neither Poppy or I have betrayed your trust."

Harry smirked knowingly.

"No, but you haven't gone out of your way to protect the secret of my existence either. I don't know why Molly and Hermione came to see you, Minerva, but, I can guess? I know you did not betray my secret to them, at least not literally,… but you wanted to. You forget my empathic abilities. I can sense that you are very close to breaking my trust."

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but he waved her to silence as he continued.

"There's no point in denying it. I already know what's in your heart. It's the only thing that kept me from raging at you when I first arrived."

McGonagal lowered her eyes to her desk .A faint blush etched her aged cheeks as she simply replied.

"We care about you, Harry,Poppy and I. We only want what's best for you. You need them, and they need you."

He smiled genuinely for the first time since he entered her office.

"I'm inclined to agree. They do seem to have a certain knack for getting themselves into trouble don't they? No doubt a bit of me has rubbed off on them."

Minerva snorted a laugh and replied. "That's not what I mean and you know it?"

"I do, but I fear it's too late to consider the possibility. It was too late once we knew the outcome of the curse Voldemort used on me. I won't put them through it along with me. They deserve better than that."

"Don't you think that's for them to decide? You owe them that much, don't you?" McGonagal argued.

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow and answered. "I'd like to think I've squared accounts with the Weasleys."

Minerva scowled at his answer. "I'm not talking about saving lives, but enriching them. They're better with you in their lives than without you, and the same goes for you. Hermione's never been the same since that night, none of them have. Your leaving sucked the happiness right out of the entire family. It's not till recently that she and Molly have shown some semblance of their old fire. They know Harry. They know and they won't give you up. Not this time."

His eyes took on a troubled appearance.

"Do they know where I am? Who I am?"

"Not that I'm aware, no. Hermione knows you've changed."

"She suspects, naturally." he added incredulously.

" No…. She knows." McGonagal corrected him. "She used a modified _polyjuice _potion on a sample of blood she took from the sweater Ginny was wearing the night you rescued her in Hogsmeade. _Polyjuice_, as you know, shows the person's true appearance at the time a genetic sample is collected from them. Charms do not affect the potion."

His face paled slightly in understanding at what she was implying.

He countered with, "She's seen that my hair is different and she's seen the w-wound in my side. Though it's Hermione we're talking about,.. that's hardly going to take her anywhere?"

McGonagal sniggered at his obvious discomfort.

"This is Hermione Granger we're talking about. She'll find you, no matter how long it takes. She's got you in her sights and she's never going to let you go, and well I say, **good on her!**"

His eyes narrowed and he asked in an icy tone. "Amused are you?"

"Yes, I am rather." she replied far too perkily for his taste. Her eyes held a mischievous glint as she pressed further. "It's for the best, whether you know it or not."

"And when they learn about Voldemort's curse? When I succumb to it, will that also be for the best?"

McGonagal's face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered herself and pressed forward.

"You mean if you succumb to it. I for one am betting on you."

"Perhaps, but you're gambling with their lives. What if I turn? What if Voldemort's evil takes me over and I turn dark? What then? What do you think Voldemort's hatred would force me to do to all those I care for, yourself and Poppy included?"

"As I said, I'm betting on you." She reiterated defiantly. "_Phoenix Fire _is still within your grasp. It is yours to command. You need only believe in yourself. Trust in yourself. You may be the one that's empathic, but I know your heart as surely as I know my own. You will find the _fire_ that still burns within you and when you do, this will all go away as a bad dream does in the morning's light."

"Your asking me to believe in the impossible, Minerva."

"I could say the same for you, Alan."

Harry rose from his seat, a hint of a smile on his face.

"I have to be getting back. My coach will be going spare by now."

She nodded and asked. "What are you going to do about the Ministerial Ball next week?"

He cocked his head to one side and answered. "I'm not really sure. I'll have to find a way out of it."

She went back to her paperwork and said in an offhand fashion.

"Well, if worst comes to worst, you should have no trouble finding a date dressed as you are?"

Harry looked down at himself and violently started when he realized for the first time that he was only wearing a pair of training shorts. A vivid blush bloomed across his face and chest.

"S-Sorry" he muttered as he made for the doorway.

"No trouble. I've rather enjoyed the view." she called to his retreating form. She took pleasure in his further embarrassment, evidenced by the way his pace quickened and he all but flew from her office.

**The Burrow**

"I got 'em. I got 'em, Hermione!" Ron shouted as he emerged from the fireplace.

Hermione ran to him, squealing in delight."Oh Ron , that's wonderful!

"You got what?" Ginny asked as she came down the stairs.

"Ohh…, um, hi Ginny.I…er, got two tickets to the Ministerial Ball this Saturday. I'm sorry. I tried to get some extra tickets for the rest of the family, but two was all the Cannons would allow for each player. Maybe Dad can get some extra tickets from the Ministry?" he offered in consolation.

"Don't worry about it." she waved dismissively. "I'm already going."

"What... how?" Ron asked incredulously.

She only smirked cheekily in response as she sashayed from the room.

"She must be going with this "mystery man" that she's been dating lately." Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, I reckon. I wonder who he is?" Ron said suspiciously.

"Whoever it is? He must have some connections if he was able to get tickets to the Ball. The papers all say it's the event of year."

"Did the Prophet say who's doing the entertainment, yet?" Ron asked excitedly.

"No actually. They must want to make it a surprise. It'll add to the hype, I'm sure. Whoever's doing the dance, they must be incredibly talented. They only sign the top acts for events like this."

**Chudley**

The chairmen and owner of the Chudley Cannons, one Hadley Dobbs, was already in a foul mood when his secretary interrupted him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Dobbs, but Coach Reeves and Alan Brandt are here to see you."

Hadley Dobbs's scowl deepened. "Can't it wait, Ms. Wainwright?"

"They seemed rather pressed, sir."

"Very well, send them in." Dobbs drummed his fingers on his desk in irritation as he thought…W_hat else can go wrong ?_

A nervous looking Coach Reeves and an equally nervous, but determined looking Alan Brandt entered his office. He knew from past experience this did not bode well.

_Brandt obviously wanted something that Reeves could not or would not provide and whatever it is, they were taking it to the top. _

"Gentlemen." Dobbs nodded in a businesslike greeting. "What can I do for you?"

"It's about the Ministerial Ball , sir?" Surprisingly, Brandt had taken the lead and appeared to be negotiating in his own behalf.

"Ah, the bloody damn, Ball!" Mr. Dobbs quipped. "It's proving to be nothing but a major headache, and now, on top of everything else, we've lost our singing act for the Ball."

Intrigued by this revelation, Brandt pressed him to elaborate. The beginning of a plan was already forming in his mind as he asked innocently. "Who had you originally procured for the Ball?"

Dobbs raised a questioning eyebrow. "Not that it matters, but we had originally signed the "Weird Sisters, but their lead singer, Sarina, is out with the Dragon Pox. I've been on the floo all day trying to sign another big act, but everyone's booked. If I don't come through with a major talent, we're going to be the laughing stock of England."

Alan Brandt rubbed his chin thoughtfully an odd gleam forming in his eye. "Are the backup singers for the Weird Sisters still available?"

"Well, yes actually. Technically they're still under contract to perform for the night of the Ball. Why,... you don't know someone that could take the lead spot do you?" Dobbs asked anxiously.

Alan/Harry could see the man was desperate and moved in for the kill.

"I might. Would it be worth something to you if I did?"

"Would it be worth something? It'd be worth anything! I would be extremely grateful to anyone who could pull my bullocks out of the fire on this one."

"Grateful enough to let me sit the dance out?" Alan played his hand.

Dobbs face took wore a troubled expression as he voiced his thoughts on the matter.

"To be perfectly frank, I'm not sure? Do you have any idea the amount of fan mail we've been getting from eager young witches that are hoping, amongst other things, to get a chance to dance with the dashing and enormously popular, Alan Brandt? Frankly, I think the team would be in just as much of a bind if we excused you from the Ball, as we would if we didn't come up with a major headliner for the night's entertainment?"

Alan appeared undaunted by the owner's stance. "What I'm proposing doesn't exclude me from the Ball, just having to dance with my, er.. adoring public? After all, I can't very well dance the night away and still sing on stage?" He added incredulously.

Dobbs's mouth fell open in stunned surprise. "You,…You can sing?"

"Welll…" Alan drawled as he threw a meaningful look toward his coach.

"Some folks claim I'm rather good."

"He is Mr. Dobbs." Coach Reeves chimed in, taking his cue. "I've heard him myself and he's got one hell of a voice. Besides that, he's very popular with fans, not to mention the younger crowd. My daughter and her friends rave about Alan. He's in all the young witches magazines. He'd be a huge success. I know he would. "

A cunning grin spread across Hadley Dobbs face as he considered the possibilities.

_The team could make a fortune off of the publicity of this if he pulls it off?_

Dobbs brushed past them and called out the door of his office. "Ms. Wainwright, I need you in here, now!"

His secretary nervously bolted into the room. "Yes, Mr. Dobbs ?"

"You are temporarily assigned to Mr. Brandt for the time being."

Her boss began firing off instructions. "You are to assist him in any way he requires. I should think the first order of business would be for you to get the Weird Sisters on the floo. I have a notion that they and Mr. Brandt will need to work out some details. Am I correct in that assumption, Mr. Brandt?"

"You are if you're in agreement with my terms?" Alan answered seriously.

Mr. Dobbs's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "In agreement? Why my dear boy, if you're half as good on stage as you are in the air, I'm going to make you the richest seeker alive when we negotiate you're new contract after the World Cup."

Harry paled slightly at this proclamation. Now was not the time to announce his intention to leave the team.

"Can we keep my impending performance a secret for the time being?"

Dobbs face took on a mischievous glow. "Yes, I think that's an excellent idea. An air of mystery will have the public clamoring by the date of the Ball."

"Right, then let's get to it." Alan added bracingly.


	21. Chapter 21: The Ministerial Ball

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-one: The Ministerial Ball**

Ron paced the living room floor anxiously patting the bulge in his breast pocket for the tenth time. He knew he was rushing things a bit, but, he also knew what he wanted in life. He wanted to play quidditch. Playing quidditch for Chudley was a dream comes true, but what he wanted more than anything else in the world was to spend the rest of his life with Hermione. A year ago he would have wished that Harry was still alive. With that wish about to become a reality and with the purchase he'd made this week, only one thing was left to do.

He heard the bedroom door from above open and he turned expectantly toward the Burrow's staircase. Despite his already heightened expectations he felt his breath catch as Hermione descended the stairway. She was wearing a beautiful green velvet gown that hugged her slender curves and accentuated her lithe frame elegantly. The shade of green she wore stirred his memory, which was no doubt what she had in mind. Her chestnut hair was pulled back at the sides leaving her soft curls free to cascade down the open back of her gown. The front of her gown was cut conservatively, but still revealed a hint of her shapely cleavage. The necklace that Harry had bequeathed her, adorned her throat. It rather strategically pulling a viewer's eyes away from her cleavage, or perhaps to it, in his own case.

"Well?" She asked nervously as she bit her lower lip in anticipation.

"Ron...?" She asked again. A worried look creased her brow as he just stood there, staring blankly at her. "Is it that bad?"

Ron shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Bad, are you serious? Hermione, you're absolutely breath taking!"

"Do you really think so?" A faint blush crept up her cheeks as she asked sheepishly.

"Think so?" He repeated in a shocked tone. "Hermione, you've always been very pretty, but... wow! I mean it. You look stunning."

A broad grin spread across her face as she blushed fiercely.

"You look quite brilliant yourself. Do you like the color of my gown?"

She was baiting him and he knew it.

"'Course I do. Same color as Harry's eyes, isn't it? I assume that and the choice of jewelry you're wearing is intentional?" He answered raising an eye brow knowingly.

"Of course it is. I want to get Mr. Brandt's attention, don't I? The color of my dress should draw his attention, but I'm banking on the necklace getting a reaction out of him. I want him off balance. I want him to make a mistake, and when he does, then we'll know for certain that he's Harry. Once we know that for a certainty, then all bets are off."

Ron folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the wall and asked incredulously. "What if he isn't Harry or what if he is and he doesn't make a mistake? He may just beat you at your own game. This is ,after all, Harry, that we're talking about here."

She grinned slyly.

He knew that look. It was the look she got when she'd puzzled something out, or when she had a fool proof plan in mind. It was a 'cat that who got the canary', sort of look. He waited expectantly for her to explain to us_ lesser mortals_. He didn't have to wait long.

"Honestly, Ronald. I'm hardly just counting on my personal appearance to stun Harry into an act of confession. If Alan Brandt isn't Harry Potter, we may just know it right away. I intend to work a bit of magic that may just reveal his true identity."

"How are you going to use magic when the aurors are confiscating everyone's wands at the door?" Ron asked in a disbelieving tone of voice.

"There are other types of magic available for this evening." she said teasingly.

Her face glowed mischievously. "I was planning on using a little Veela magic to ferret out are elusive Mr. Potter."

"Veela magic? You're not a Veela, though you do have that sort of effect on me, 'Mione." he said honestly, causing Hermione to blush a deep red.

"Talk like that could turn a girl's head, but let's focus for a minute. I'm not a Veela, but Fleur is. Your parents were able to procure tickets for Bill and Fleur and they're coming with us tonight. Fleur's going to turn up the Veela charm full blast when he gets close to her, so brace yourself Ronald."

Ron gulped nervously at the implication. He never had any resistance to Veela magic and couldn't fathom for the life of him how his own brother was able to keep his wits with Fleur around. Harry was the only one that could.

"Hey, wait a minute 'Mione, Harry isn't affected by Veela charm."

"Exactly my point." She smiled cunningly. "Harry isn't, but Alan Brandt should be. According to the papers, Mr. Brandt is nearly a squib, which is why he never even carries a wand. If he's affected than we'll know that he's not Harry. If he has no reaction, then he may actually be Harry. It's not proof positive, but it's a start. What I'm really counting on is the other aspect of Fleur's Veela magic, her empathic powers. By all accounts, Harry has become or has developed some empathic abilities. If he uses his empathic powers, then Fleur should be able to pick up on it. At the very least, Fleur will be able to get a reading off of him. Harry has a very unique empathic signature, one that Fleur claims she can recognize a mile away. He was never susceptible to Veela charm, but Fleur could always sense Harry's presence. She sort of bonded with him after he save Gabrielle during the second task of the Tri-wizard's Tournament."

"What if he's able to keep his distance from her? What if for some reason she can't get close enough to get a reading?" He asked worriedly.

"Oh, she'll get a chance. As Chudley and the Romanian team are hosting the Ball, the players are expected to dance with their guests. Even if she isn't able to get a dance with him I'm counting on my ace in the hole."

"Which is?"

"Ginny." she answered flatly.

Ron's sudden grin at this revelation quickly soured as he voiced the thought. "But she's taking a date to the Ball. She probably won't even try to dance with him."

A triumphant smile spread across Hermione's pretty face. Her eyes gleamed with hidden knowledge. "I'm sure she won't, but if Alan Brandt is really Harry Potter then I'm sure he's going to have a reaction when he see- **who** she's dating."

"I take it that you found out who the mystery man is? " he asked grimly. Ron had a feeling he was not going to like the answer to his question.

"Promise me that you won't make a scene?" she asked nervously.

Ron's eyes narrowed and his visage darkened. "Who is it?"

"Please, Ron. Remember that tonight is about Harry. We can talk things out with Ginny later, but for now let's concentrate on getting Harry back." Her soft brown eyes pleaded with him, he was lost to their power.

"Alright, fine." he conceded as he shrugged his shoulders. "How bad could it be? It's not like she's dating Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake."

**The United Kingdom's Ministry of Magic Ball**

"_Good evening wizards and witches of Great Britain and welcome to the Wizarding Wireless Network's pre-gala coverage of the Ministerial Ball. I'm your host for tonight's event, Lee Jordan. Before me is the receiving line for tonight's event. The Romanian Nationals team followed by England's own home favorite: the Chudley Cannons, are currently hosting a 'meet and greet 'for guests as they arrive. I can see Romania's star seeker, Viktor Krum, from here. No doubt he will be a favored partner for many a witch at tonight's Ball, though incidentally, he's rumored to be less graceful on the dance floor than he is on a broom. Sorry about your toes ladies."_ Jordan finished with a chuckle.

"_On another, and sadder note; I've been informed by team official's that Chudley's own, Alan Brandt, will be unavailable to dance this evening. The team has remained mum about the reason for his absence from tonight's event. Mr. Brandt is definitely going to be sorry he missed tonight's bash, folks. I can tell you that from my vantage point that there is no shortage of stunningly attractive women present this evening. Speaking of which, I believe I see an old friend or two from school. I'm sure the folks at home will recognize their names. __**Hermione**__, Hermione Granger? Ron, can I have a word?"_

"_Yes? Oh, Hello Lee. It's so nice to see you."_ Hermione's voice answered melodiously over the airwave.

"_Yes, Folks, I'm lucky enough to be standing here with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. These two are widely known as close personal friends and comrades of Britian's hero, the late Harry Potter. Hermione and Ron are both recipients of the prestigious 'Order of Merlin' award for their gallantry in the last war against V-Voldemort. Ron, can you verify the rumor that you've recently signed with Chudley to play keeper for next season to replace the retiring, Harris Smith?"_

Ron cleared his throat nervously before answering.

"_Wellll, I can say this, Lee. I have signed a contract with Chudley , but I could never replace someone as talented as the legendary Harris Smith."_

"_You're far too modest, Ron. I remember your stellar play in the role of Gryffindor's keeper during our last years together at Hogwarts. Now, if I could borrow your beautiful date for a moment?"_ Lee inquired hopefully.

"_Certainly, Lee. Hermione?"_

Hermione stepped forward to the microphone that Lee Jordan held in his hand.

"_Hermione, I wonder if you could spare us a moment to tell the viewers at home what's in the future plans of Britain's most brilliant young witch?"_

"_Well, actually Lee, I've decided to take the summer holiday in pursuit of some rather personal goals. In the fall I plan to accept a post that I've been offered with the Ministry's Department of Mysteries."_

"_Wow. You heard it here first people. Keep your eyes on these two, they're going places. Hermione, I_ _must say, you look absolutely ravishing this evening. Your necklace is stunning. Is it a gift from your adoring date?"_

"_Why, thank you for the compliment ,Lee. Actually, the necklace I'm wearing was a personal gift to me from Harry Potter. It's my most prized possession, next to Ron that is."_

"_I'm sure you're sorry to hear that ladies and gentleman of the audience. It looks like another pair of prize catches are off the market. Remember folks, you heard it here first on the Wizarding Wireless Network. Now, on to tonight's show. Chudley has refused to divulge tonight's entertainment. They've only ventured to announce that tonight's scheduled performer is going to have us, and I quote, "Dancing on the ceiling."_

Due to the enhanced security because of the unrest in Romania; the Romanian team had insisted upon wands being checked at the door. It took nearly three hours for all the guests to clear the ministry's added security measures. Due to Mr. Weasley's high position within the ministry, he and his family had been among those first to arrive.

Though thoroughly disappointed that Alan Brandt would not be available as an escort this evening, the Weasley's had decided to make the best of things and concentrate on enjoying a pleasant evening amongst family and friends.

Minister Bones had taken the stage to formally welcome the ministry's guests and announce the beginning of tonight's festivities. Ron was scanning the crowd, but had yet to spot the characteristic red hair of his family's youngest member. Hermione watched him nervously. She knew he was looking for Ginny, or more to the point, the identity of Ginny's date? She only hoped he would remain civil and not let his characteristic, "Weasley temper", get the better of him once he found out whom Ginny was currently dating.

"So ladies and gentleman without further ado we shall begin tonight's Ministerial Ball with a lady's choice dance" Minister Bones announced with a mischievous smile.

"I should like to add that I think everyone is going to be pleasantly surprised by the Cannon's generous choice for tonight's entertainment. I'm sure that I can speak for the Cannon's when I say that tonight's performance will be one to remember. Ladies, if you would please select your partners now, as shortly we are going to be turning down the lights for tonight's opening dance.

Witches began to scurry about the assembled guests choosing their partners for the opening dance. Casting baleful looks at a trio of approaching, giggling witches, Hermione quickly seized Ron's arm and all but dragged him onto the dance floor. Once everyone was in position on the floor, the lights began to dim and stars winked into being on the ceiling above. Shimmering fairy lights flashed softly throughout the hall and a piano began to play softly from the stage. Moments later the piano was joined by the most beautiful voice that Hermione thought she had ever heard. It was the kind of voice that reached out and touched the very hearts of everyone in attendance. The voice seemed to be drifting down from the stars above them. The song he sang was perfect. It began softly, but rose in intensity as the performer poured his emotions into the song.

The song continued on and the audience could feel the singer's raw passion flowing into the song until finally his voice faded into the ether as the song came to a finish. The voice singing in the darkness had been like a gentle breeze on a humid night; its arrival was glorious, but it's passing all too soon lamented…

There was a stunned moment of silence before someone began clapping. Seconds later the hall was filled with a thunderous applause. Cat calls echoed from the darkness, shouts of "Bravo and Encore!" After several intense moments of cheering the crowd's generous applause finally died away. The audience waited with bated breath, all silently hoping for an encore. The lights remained off and the stars still twinkled on the ceiling above.

The sound of someone snapping their fingers began rhythmically in the darkness. People soon started to clap along with the rhythm of the snapping fingers. Drums began to take up the beat as well. A piano and guitar started up a very upbeat melody and soon the voice returned from the darkness.

_ ** "What's happening here?**_

**_ Something's going on it's not quite clear._**

**_ Somebody turn on a light .._**

(At the performer's command the lights were turned on and the stunned audience blinked the stars away from their eyes as they scanned the stage looking for the mysterious singer. Only the band was present on the stage. People's heads swiveled back and forth, searching, as the performer continued his upbeat song. His voice seemed to surround the entire audience.

-cont...

_ ** Somebody turn on the lights.**_

**_ We're gonna have a party startin tonigh-ht. _**

**_ Ohhh- what a fee-lin_**

**_ To be dancin on the cei-ling_**

(The guest eyes shot up in sudden understanding and a chorus of gasps mixed with cheers of delight sounded from the crowd. The mystery performer was standing upside down on the ceiling-dancing to the melody of his song.)

_ **O**_**_h what a fee-lin_**

**_ When we'er dancin on the cei-ling..._**

***('Dancing on the Ceiling' by Lionel Ritchie)***

_ **People started climbing the walls**_

-And they did! Several of the Chudley Cannon players and their dates started walking right up the side of the walls and joined the performer on the ceiling. They too began to dance as his song continued without missing a beat.

_ **People started climbing the walls**_

_** Ohh it looks like everybody's havin a ba-all.**_

**_ Oh what a fee-lin..To be dancing on the cei-ling_**

_** Oh what a fee-lin-When we're dancing on the cei-ling**"_

The Chudley players and their partners made their way back down to the floor as the song wound down to a finish, amidst raucous applause.

The performer remained standing on the ceiling where he addressed the audience:

"Good evening everyone and welcome to the International Quidditch League's Ministerial Ball. I'm Alan Brandt, your host for the evening."

Squeals of excitement sounded from the younger witches in the audience at this disclosure. Cheers rang out throughout the gathered assembly and a fan or two shouted encouragements, such as, "At a boy, Alan!"

"Thank you, Thank you. You're all very kind.."

He swept his arm to indicate the stage. "Joining me this evening will be Eva and Sinclair of the Weird Sisters and the Weird Sisters band."

He paused as another enthusiastic wave of applause echoed after his announcement.

"Although the view from up here is.. er.. quite revealing, thanks to you ladies." He paused as the crowd chuckled whilst several witches gasped and clamped their hands over their bust lines.

"I'm afraid I'll need to come down there to continue tonight's performance."

A broom drifted up to the ceiling and Brandt flipped down onto the broom amidst startled gasps from the crowd below.

"What?" he asked confusedly. "I assure you, I may fly like one, but I'm not as blind or crazy as a bat." Further chuckles sounded from around the room as he drifted down to the stage.

Alan Brandt was dressed in a loose fitting white tuxedo shirt, tucked into snug , but not revealingly so, black jeans. He wore green dragon hide boots that were so dark in color that they appeared almost black. His light brown shoulder length hair was stylishly feathered back on the sides and his brown eyes glinted mischievously.

"This is my first time singing professionally, how am I doing so far?"

Screams, squeals, cat calls and pounding applause answered him.

"I'll take that as an "okay." he said, grinning appreciatively.

"This whole thing started because Coach Reeves heard me singing in the shower one day. The next thing I know I'm on stage in front of you lot. I never did get to finish my shower properly."

"I'll help you finish it." A female voice called out.

"That's a very kind offer, but I do have a show to put on first, thank you." Brandt cajoled good naturedly.

"Since everyone is in such a feisty mood, let's get this party started."

With that, he swept up a guitar and broke into a new song .

Hermione's expression was one of complete and utter shock as she turned to Ron who's features went from that of stunned to incredulous..

"I don't think that Brandt is Harry, Hermione. All the magic in the world couldn't get Harry to pull off an entrance like that. Harry can't sing a lick, or dance for that matter. This bloke is bloody fantastic at both!"

"But,… I was so sure. Are you sure that he still couldn't be Harry?" Hermione's confusion and disappointment were evident.

"Positive. Harry always sang in the showers. He had a bloody awful voice. Real nasally, sounded like a frog drowning. You should know for yourself that he couldn't dance either. He wasn't as bad as Neville, but then again, who is?"

"He could've learned to dance? She ventured hopefully.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Harry hated dancing. He was always rubbish when it came to girls and that sort of thing. Now this Alan bloke, he's a natural. He's got the birds eating right out of his hand... look? "

Hermione looked in the direction that Ron was indicating. Witches from young to old were lined up in front of the stage and clamoring for the attentions of the charming Mr. Brandt.

"I suppose you're right." Hermione agreed glumly in a defeated voice as she took in the scene from the stage.

The Ball had been in full swing for nearly three hours and Ron had still yet to catch a glimpse of his sister and her mystery date. He didn't really seem to care after a bit. Ron and Hermione had spent the entire evening dancing in each other's arms. Each of them was secretly hoping that the night would never end. They had just finished another dance when Ron felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and a voice he had not heard in quite some time ask."May I haff your permission to dance wiff your charming date?"

"T-That sounds like...?" Ron stammered as he released Hermione and turned around.

"Viktor!" Hermione squealed happily as Viktor Krum came into view.

"Dah. Is goot to see you, Hermionee, and you too, Ron." Krum said as he shook Ron's hand before adding, "May I dance with Hermionee?"

"Of course you may. Just have her back by midnight okay?" Ron addedd with a smirk. (He had matured and become secure enough in himself, that jealousy was no longer an issue.)

"Ron." Hermione tisked .

"Dah." Viktor answered him grinning. Viktor bowed to Hermione and asked cordially. "May I haff the honor?"

"Certainly, kind sir." Hermione answered as she curtsied prettily.

"Sheesh." Ron mimed as he rolled his eyes.

Hermione sniffed haughtily pretending to ignore him as she took Viktor's proffered arm and allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that many witches were giving her envious looks as she danced with Viktor.

After a few moments Viktor asked conversationally."You and Ron are still together, dah?"

"Y-Yes we are." She said a bit more defensively than she'd have liked. His next comment relieved her anxiety.

"Goot. He is a goot man and you deserve the best."

"He is." She agreed without the slightest pause. "I thought you didn't exactly like Ron though?" she asked curiously.

"I didn't like anyone that was a rival for Hermionee at the time, but that was then."

She cocked an eyebrow and asked."And now?"

He shrugged. "Now I am grown man and haff a fiancé of my own. I know that we are meant to be together just as I know that Ron and you were meant to be."

"Oh Viktor, I'm so happy for you. Who's the lucky lady?"

Her Name is Gretta. She could not make it tonight, but she iz coming to the match next week. We are going to marry at Christmas time. You and Ron will, of course, be invited. Fluer and Bill said that they vill come too."

"We'd love to come. I take it that you and Fluer kept in touch over the years?"

"Dah. She iz my friend and fellow Tri- Wizard's Champion. We all formed a bond during that tournament. Sadly, she and I are the last of the four champions. I vish that 'Arry had survived?. He vas alvays a goot friend to me. You and Ron ver 'Arry's best friends and he deserved the best. This iz how I know dat you deserve each other now."

"Viktor, that's a lovely thought, thank you." she thanked him smiling warmly.

"It iz just how I feel. Fleur has said as much also." He offered incredulously.

After a few minutes their dance finished and he escorted her back to Ron after securing her promise that she and Ron would be attending his upcoming nuptials. She had to wish him luck, ( in secret), for the upcoming match. Cautiously she explained her reason for secrecy in that Ron was not only Chudley's new keeper, but a diehard fan of the team. He would look with disfavor upon her if she rooted for anyone but the Cannons.

Hermione was making her way around the stage toward the concession stands where she knew she'd no doubt find Ron attacking the appetizers.

_The man could consume a buffet, _she thought with a fond chuckle.

The performers were on break at the moment and the crowd had thinned from the area making her passage easy. As she passed a curtained area to the left of the stage she paused and listened. The faint sound of arguing from behind the curtain had peaked her curiosity when she heard a familiar name mentioned.

"Why does this Malfoy character want me?"

"He said that his girlfriend is with him and she thinks you're fantastic. She only wants to meet you, but he wants to do her one better. Seems he plans to marry the girl and he'd like you to perform at their reception this fall."

Hermione could feel a hollow dread forming in the pit of her stomach_. Ginny couldn't possibly be taking things that far,... could she? Could he be talking about some other Malfoy? Is there even another Malfoy besides, Draco? _

Hermione knew the one voice must surely be that of Brandt, but who was he arguing with?She continued to listen as the conversation heated.

"So who's the lucky girl?" Brandt spat sarcastically.

Hermione could hear the disdain in Brandt's voice.

"Don't know really, I haven't met her. I understand she's playing for the Harpies next season. A pretty girl, she's suppose to be quite a player,.. a chaser, I think?"

Hermione felt dizzy. _This couldn't be happening_.

"Yeah, well she must have been hit in the head with one too many bludgers if she's marrying that git."

"I take it that you're acquainted with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Something like that..." Brandt answered curtly but did not elaborate.

"Please Alan, be reasonable. He's offering you 10,000 galleons plus a bonus to the team for the loss of your services that week. He knows it's during the quidditch season so he's willing to make it worth our while. For the kind of money he's offering we can get by without you for a week. I would take it as a personal favor if you would take the engagement, Alan? I sort of stuck my neck out and all but guaranteed your services."

"Where do you get off making a bloody promise like that, Dobbs?" Brandt responded contemptuously.

_Dobbs? Hadley Dobbs the owner of the Cannons? _Hermione thought curiously as she continued to listen. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping.

_There was something going on here that was just so intriguing, besides, Ginny was involved in the discussion and that made it personal. _At least that's what she tried to make herself believe was an adequate excuse for her eaves dropping behavior. She listened closely as Brandt continued in outrage.

"You've got no right dolling out my services without my consent, especially when I'm not even under contract with the Cannon's for next year."

"I told you Alan, that's nothing more than a mere technicality. You know we want to sign you long term. I'm only waiting till after the Cup match is over and then I'll be happy to negotiate a new contract with you. I'm sure that you'll be more than pleased with the changes we intend to make compared to your current contract."

"If selling me out like some cheap whore is your idea of **pleasing changes** than you needn't bother. I'm thru with the Cannons. I'll be leaving the team after the Cup's final." Brandt said with a note of finality.

"What! No, you can't be serious ,Alan?"

Hermione could hear a note of panic in Dobbs voice as he tried to make amends.

"I'm sorry about this whole Malfoy thing. I just thought you were enjoying yourself out there tonight and would like the chance to make some good money on the side. I had no idea you felt this way about it? You seem so natural out there and everyone loves the show this far. I've had numerous requests for a dance with you from a great many disappointed female fans this evening. I was secretly hoping that you might consent to dance with at least one or two of the ladies here tonight. It would mean a lot to your fans?"

"Yeah well,... I guess I'm a good actor then. The only reason I agreed to perform in the first place was so I could avoid having to dance with any of the females here tonight. I..er, have a bit of history with some people that are here tonight and I'm anxious to avoid any personal contact with them. I suppose I could dance with someone after my next set?" he offered reluctantly before emphasizing, "But, it would have to be someone of my own choosing and a solo dance - no crowd."

"Absolutely, Alan, thank you. I'm sure you're going to give some lucky girl the thrill of a lifetime. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Maybe" He replied with a hint of mischief in his voice.

The wheels in Hermione's head began to turn excitedly as she hurried off to find Ron and the rest of the Weasley's. After what she just heard she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't' quite so wrong about Mr. Brandt's identity. At least she knew one thing for certain; there was a lot more to Alan Brandt than meets the eye.


	22. Chapter 22: Almost the perfect end to

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters**

**Chapter Twenty-two: Almost the Perfect End to a Perfect Evening**

The Ball continued without a hitch. Alan Brandt thrilled his audience, both young and old, witch and wizard, with a wonderful medley of songs that catered to everyone's interest. He had been performing for nearly two hours before announcing that he would be taking a short break before performing the evening's final set. He and his backup singers left the stage.

A few minutes later, Hadley Dobbs walked calmly out on stage to address the waiting audience smiling broadly.

"Good evening everyone. I'm, Hadley Dobbs, owner of the Chudley Cannons." A tumultuous applause responded to his announcement.

"Thank you. You're very kind. How is everyone enjoying this evening's entertainment thus far?"

The window panes of the hall shook as the cheering reached new heights in answer to his question.

"I see that you and I are of the same opinion. Alan Brandt has proven to be quite a find hasn't he?"

The cheering rose to a fever pitch. When the crowd finally quieted down, Mr. Dobbs continued.

"Despite all the positive feedback I've had regarding the show this evening, I've had a number of guests voice their displeasure that Alan has not been able to dance with any of the lovely witches here this evening, as has been the pleasure of many of his teammates. To remedy that situation, Alan has graciously offered to dance a solo dance with one of you this evening. Would any lady that has an interest in dancing with Alan Brandt please enter the dance floor and form yourselves into a circle. Alan will be joining us momentarily to choose his partner for the evening. Ladies if you please...?"

Excited squeals and gasps of pleasure sounded throughout the audience as dozens of hopeful witches pushed their way thru the crowd and onto the dance floor. A plotting Hermione and Fleur were among them.

"Remember Fleur, when he gets close, I want you to turn on your Veela allure full power." She whispered too her companion conspiratorially.

"But, Hermione, et will affect all ze men that are in ze area, some of ze women too." she added in a troubled afterthought.

"I don't care if it has them stripping off their clothes and chasing you all the way home, as long as we get a reaction, or lack thereof, out of Brandt. As soon as you turn your Veela powers loose on him, let go of your empathic probes. I want you to scan every inch of him. Look for anything that even remotely reminds you of Harry. Got it?" Hermione asked in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Oui. I just hope that Bill forgives me for zis?" she added fretfully.

Hermione cocked a knowing eyebrow and said."You'll just have to make it up to him later, oui?"

The two women shared an amused chuckle.

Several gasps of delight followed by shushing sounds heralded the arrival of Alan Brandt on the dance floor. He had changed into a formal set of elegant black robes that were cut to accentuate his athletic frame. Black dress shoes replaced his dragon hide boots and he had a freshly shaved and showered appearance. He was, for all intents and purposes, sexy, and Hermione had to admit that she wouldn't mind taking a turn with him around the floor whether he was truly Harry, or no.

He came to a halt in the middle of the circle of hopefuls and turned slowly on the spot smiling appreciatively to all the gathered witches.

"Well, Alan. Which witch is it to be?" Dobbs prodded good naturedly from the stage.

"Honestly Mr. Dobbs, I haven't a clue? Each of these ladies is lovelier than the next." He said charmingly. Then added incredulously. "I find it difficult to believe that so many beautiful witches, as these gathered here, could possibly still be single? Could all of the ladies here that are married or otherwise spoken for, please return to your dates? I would not wish to deprive their fortunate escorts of your charming company a moment longer, though I am extremely flattered by your interest."

Many disappointed sighs and grumbled displeasures announced the departures of many of the witches present.

"Hmm, still so many? A pity, but could all those present that are over the age of thirty please depart the floor. Please understand, I would prefer someone more my own age, though all of you appear exceptional to say the least." he added kindly.

More disappointed retorts followed the departure of another large group of witches from the floor.

"Are you choosing a dance partner or a wife , Alan." Dobbs chuckled from the stage.

"One never can tell." Alan replied in a cheeky, but hopeful tone that sent a ripple of excitement through the gathered ladies still present.

"It's still an impossible decision, perhaps if I had a closer view?" he mused genuinely.

Brandt walked toward the nearest of the ladies; a young blond girl with soft blue eyes who began to blush furiously at his approach. He reached out a tender hand and cupped her chin and tilted her eyes up to meet his own. "Lovely" he complimented sincerely. With a gentle nod of appreciation, he moved onto the next girl, and so on down the line.

Hermione felt ridiculous. _What am I doing standing here like a stupid school girl fawning for the attention of some athlete that no doubt was more brawn than brain?_

Brandt was charming, talented and begrudgingly quite handsome, but there was one thing he wasn't? He wasn't Harry Potter. There was no way in hell that Harry Potter would be out here charming all these witches right out of their skirts. He simply didn't have it in him. For all his courage and magical talent, Harry was absolutely rubbish when it came to dealing with the opposite sex. There was no way that Harry could possibly pull off the magic that Alan Brandt was displaying on this dance floor tonight. He had every witch present eating right out of his hand.

Brandt had just finished chatting with a giggling young witch before turning toward Fleur and Hermione. Fleur turned loose her Veela allure and Hermione watched with amusement as every male head in the room, and some of the females as well, turned glazed-wanton expressions in her direction.

_Her hair seemed to dance in a breeze that wasn't there. Her whole body glowed with a radiant vitality. She was beyond breathtaking_. _She.._ Hermione paused in her musings and shook her head embarrassedly to clear the cobwebs.

Apparently she was not completely immune to a Veela's charm either. Brandt paused momentarily to nod _clear eyed_ at Fleur and offer kindly, "Charming"

To Hermione's shocked indignation, he passed by her without hesitation and continued on around the circled females.

She gathered her tattered pride and mumbled to Fleur, "Well?"

Fleur only shook her head. A troubled expression was on her face. "We vill talk later." she said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a flash of red on the other side of the circle. Cursing herself for having not noticed before, Ginny was on the other side of the circle across from where she and Fleur now stood. Ginny was wearing a shimmering gold sequined gown that hugged her curves and set off her auburn tresses beautifully. She was absolutely stunning.

_Let's see what Mr. Brandt thinks of her? _Hermione thought in amused anticipation.

Whatever she was expecting from Brandt, she was disappointed. He paused briefly in front of Ginny and continued on as before.

_Definitely not Harry, _she thought disappointedly for the hundredth time tonight.

She initially hadn't noticed that Fleur stiffened bolt upright until Fleur clutched her arm almost painfully as she stared at Brandt with anguished eyes.

"What is it?" Hermione hissed quietly, trying not to draw attention to their selves.

Before Fleur could answer Brandt announced. "No doubt this is the hardest and most wonderful decision that I've ever had to make. I thank all of you ladies for the incredible honor you've afforded me this evening."

"You've made your decision then? Dobbs asked expectantly.

"I have indeed." He walked toward trembling young women in a delicate light blue chintz dress. She had soft brown, shoulder length hair pulled back at the sides which accentuated her delicate features. He bowed to the girl and asked in a formal voice. "Would you honor me with your hand for the next dance?"

The girl was visibly shaking. A furious blush crept up her neck and face. She answered hesitantly.

"I w-will if you wo-would be so kind as to ask my father's permission first?"

Brandt cocked a questioning eyebrow, but answered cordially.

"Forgive my manners. To whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"

"Abigail,.. Abigail Reeves." she replied coyly with a hint of a sly smile.

Brandt visibly stiffened. "Coach Reeve's daughter?" he asked with a note of uncertainty.

Abigail nodded her head in acknowledgement.

Dobbs chuckled on stage." Oh- Ho. You've stuck your foot in it this time Alan."

The rest of the crowd laughed in agreement.

Brandt cleared his throat to quiet the crowd and asked in a strong, clear voice. "Would the father of Abigail Reeves please come to the floor?"

The crowd parted as both Coach Reeves and his wife made their way onto the dance floor. Brandt appeared to gulp nervously before he bowed to Mrs. Reeves and said. "I assure you that your daughter's heart is safe in my hands"

Mrs. Reeves nodded and said "Thank you for that, Alan. My husband trusts you and so shall I." Brandt nodded to Mrs. Reeves and thanked her. He then turned to Coach Reeves and said formally. "With your permission, sir?"

"With my thanks, sir" the coach replied before shaking his hand.

He turned his attention to the coach's daughter " Abigail?"

She placed her hand in his and he led the trembling girl to the center of the floor.

"What song would you like for us to play?" Dobbs asked cordially.

Alan turned to Abigail and asked. "If you would allow me, I think I might have something, er, special in mind?"

"Of course, Mr. Brandt." She demured.

He put his hand to his chest and gasped. "Milady, you wound me with such cold formality. I insist that you call me Alan."

She nodded coyly and beamed him a smile adding. "Of course, Alan. Whatever song you chose is fine."

Brandt nodded to the band and they began to play a charming romantic song. The weird sister's entered the stage and took up a rhythm harmonizing the background vocals repeating the phrase:

Brandtt circled around Abigail and began to sing the lead , accompanying the background singers beautifully.

He swept Abigail into his arms and began to dance with her around the floor. A soft golden glow enveloped the two of them as he continued to sing to her without missing a beat.

The crowd began to applaud and cheer as the golden glow surrounding the couple, intensified as they rose slowly into the air. They continued to dance, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were now twenty feet above the dance floor.

As the couple continued to dance they slowly drifted back down to the floor as the notes of the song faded toward its conclusion. They never took their eyes from each other as Brandt finished singing, looking directly into the young girls moist eyes.

As the notes of the song faded, Alan Brandt bowed to his partner and kissed her hand. The young girl was beaming as he escorted her back to her waiting parents. He bowed again to the girl's father and thanked him for the honor of his daughter's charming company.

Ron's mouth was hanging agape as he looked questioningly to Hermione and asked. "Just what kind of magic was that? I've seen _levitation charms_, but they looked like they were flying. Wizards can't fly, at least not without a broom, and what was that golden glow that surrounded them?"

Hermione chewed on her lower lip anxiously. She continued to watch Brandt make his way from the dance floor as she contemplated Ron's question for a moment before answering."To be perfectly honest, I don't know."

Ron wore a gob smacked expression on his face as he parroted. "You don't know? How can you not know? There isn't a spell in the world that you can't do."

Hermione fought down an embarrassed blush that was inspired by his unintentional compliment.

"Let me rephrase that; I don't know yet, but I intend to find out. Something's just not right about our Mr. Brandt."

"What's with Fleur? She's been in a right state ever since she came off the dance floor with you." Ron asked in concern as he eyed his brother's futile attempts to console his distraught fiancé.

Fleur was so distraught she was becoming nearly hysterical.

"That's part of what's troubling me. It seems that Mr. Brandt is heavily shielded. Fleur hit him with a full blast of Veela charm and it never even made a dent. Even Harry couldn't brush her off that easily when she turned up her powers of allurement, and she's never used them at that level before."

"Yeah,..er." Ron began sheepishly. "Things kind of went a little wonky for a minute there. One minute I was watching Brandt make the rounds, and the next minute everything went kind of fuzzy and all I could think of was how bad I wanted to snog Fleur senseless." He put his foot in his mouth with a well practiced ease sometimes.

Hermione looked disdainfully at her boyfriend and huffed. "Well thank you very much for that compliment, Ronald.", then added with more sarcasm, "You really know how to turn a girl's head."

"Aw- come on 'Mione, you know what I mean? Besides, half the blokes in her were drooling all over themselves when she did that. She really didn't get a rise out of Brandt at all?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Not a ripple." Hermione confirmed, but then smirked as she added.

"Ginny did."

"What?" Ron asked surprised. "What do you mean Ginny did? He never gave her a second glance. He passed her up like all the rest of them. Bit surprising really, him going for that younger girl? She was pretty enough and all, but was nothing compared to you and Fleur."

"Oh, Ron…" Hermione blushingly kissed his cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked innocently.

"For complimenting me and Fleur, you git."

"Just common sense is all." He shrugged as if he'd merely said the most obvious thing in the world.

Ron chanced a glance in Bill's direction and was relieved to see that his brother had finally managed to calm his fiancé enough for Fleur to regain some semblance of her former composure.

"It looks like Fleur's feeling better. What do you suppose set her off like that?"

Hermione pursed her lips and contemplated his question a moment before answering. "I'm not sure really. She was a little disappointed that she couldn't get any sort of read off of Brandt, but she did feel something from someone out there on that dance floor."

Hermione nodded her head at the crowded floor. "Fleur's empathic perception picked up on someone in real anguish, but before she could pinpoint the source, it was gone ."

"Hmm, well one thing's for certain, it's not that Brandt character who's feeling down. That git's having the time of his life out there."

Ron nodded toward the stage chuckling softly. I guess we're going to have a harder time finding Harry then we thought?" Ron said with a note of melancholy.

"I- I 'm sorry, Ron. I really thought…" She began before Ron cut her off.

"Don't worry about it 'Mione. It's not your fault. I thought that Brandt was Harry too" he conceded.

Hermione watched Ron's face darken as he looked out onto the dance floor in the direction of a certain red headed witch. She could sense his displeasure, but was secretly glad that he had held his temper and not caused a scene.

"I'm proud of you Ron." She said affectionately.

"What for?" He asked as he finally pulled his eyes away from watching his sister.

"For not losing your temper with Ginny. I'm sure her choice of escorts is not exactly what you expected?"

"Well, I can't say that I'm pleased. You could have warned me though. It was a bit of a shock when I ran into the two of them by the refreshment stand. Malfoy was being 'oh so polite', the oily git. I don't know what angle he's working. The git claims he lit out on his Death Eater father. Said he never wanted anything to do with that whole business. He said that he was just trying to keep up appearances because he was afraid of dear old dad. Load of bull, if you ask me. She even was on about him rescuing her from another kidnapping attempt or some such. I don't know what he's playing at, but he better not hurt my sister is all I've got to say about it."

"You're a good brother, Ron. I'm sure Ginny appreciates you more than even she knows. I know I do." Hermione said adoringly. She brushed her lips across his in a chaste kiss that hinted of more to come... later.

"Well folks, I see that midnight's come and gone and I'm afraid it's time to say goodnight." Brandt began to make his apologies.

"On behalf of myself, Eva, and Sinclair, of the Weird Sisters, I'd like to thank you all for coming. You've been a great audience and we appreciate it. Goodnight everyone!"

Alan Brandt made his goodbyes as he and the band left the stage. The lights turned up and some of the guests started to leave, but many more took up a chant of, "More! More!"- Hoping to coax the performers into an encore.

After about five minutes; a perspiring and tired looking, Alan Brandt, returned to the stage with a guitar slung across his back. Cheers broke out throughout the hall at his arrival.

"Aww- come on folks, I've got a big game on Saturday." he complained with a hint of a grin. "I need to get some rest cause I'm sure Coach Reeves will have me paying for my week off at tomorrow's practice.

"You've got that right, Alan." Coach Reeves voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a wave of laughter.

"See what I mean. The man's a slave driver. All he cares about is **winning the cup**."

Cheers broke out in response to his admonition.

"The Weird Sister's had to leave already, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me if you want another song cause I'm all that's left." he offered sheepishly.

Cheers and a few," We love you, Alan" proclamations from a witch or two ,answered him.

"Er… thanks, but romance will have to wait. I'm a little focused on getting the cup myself these days. Sorry about that, Krum…" he chuckled

Another wave of laughter and cheers responded to his statement, along with a few disappointed moans from a few thick witches in the audience.

"How about we finish the night with a romantic song? Sorry, but like most romantic songs, this one's a little sad. So gentlemen, grab you're ladies for a last chance to dance with the one you love. Hang on to her tight and never let her go. You'll be sorry if you do, trust me on this one."

Alan Brandt took the guitar he had slung across his back and sat down on the edge of the stage. The lights dimmed and he began to strum his guitar.

_ ** "She put him out...**_

**_ She quenched the __fire__ that was burning in his soul._**

**_ She broke his heart… He'll spend his whole life trying to forget_**

The song continued. Despite himself, he sang about unrequited love. He sang from the heart, from the depth of his very soul. **It was their song**…..

_ **To win her love on back, will only bring more harm**_

**_ But he spends his every night, dreaming of her charms_…**

The faded after several more telling verses and the lights came on. The crowd began to cheer as all eyes turned to an empty stage. Brandt was gone, leaving as silently as he had come. Ron looked down into the tear stained eyes of his love, as did Bill and Mr. Weasley, and many other lucky wizards around the hall.

"Sad song, huh?" Ron mumured.

"I-It **their** s-song, Ron." Hermione stammered thru her tears.

"Who's song, love?" Ron asked bewildered.

"H-Harry's and Ginny's…"

Ron looked at her with a confused expression. He was unable to put it all together in his mind, so she helped him.

"Don't you get it, Ron? He is Harry. We were right. We were right about everything. **Brandt-****is-****Harry**."

She pressed on. The words tumbled out of her mouth. The pieces were locking into place as she spoke:

"I think his song was about them? All the clues are there. There right there, in his song. _'She put out the __**fire **__in his soul_'- don't you get it? **Phoenix fire!** It's all there. All the clues are there in his song, especially the biggest Harry Potter clue of them all; 'to win her love back -will only bring more harm'. Ron, he's sacrificing everything for her... just like before. Oh my God! That's what Fleur picked up on before. It was Harry she felt. She felt Harry's reaction when he ran into Ginny."

Ron's eyes grew wide as he caught on to what she was saying.

"Come on, 'Mione, let's find the others. I still think it's a bit of a reach, but maybe, if we hurry, dad can still get us backstage before he gets away?"

Much of the crowd had already left the hall, but Ron and Hermione had yet to find the rest of his family. He was about to suggest that they split up so that they could cover more ground, when he felt a tug on his arm.

"I think they're over here." Hermione said.

She pointed toward a room off to the side that had served as a posh reception area for visiting dignitaries and other important guests.

Familiar, angry voices were drifting out of the room, causing them to quicken their pace.

Ron and Hermione had arrived at the doorway just as Bill Weasley angrily snarled at his younger sister.

"What do you mean, you're **not** coming home?"

"You heard me." Ginny snapped back as her own temper was now coming into play. "I'm going to be staying with Draco. As a matter of fact, I'm going to be moving in with him, **permanently**,... not that it's any of your business."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Ron heard his mother's shocked retort. "You can't be serious? You're not a married woman, Ginny!" her mother added in a scandalized voice.

Arthur Weasley looked on over his wife's shoulder with a grimace on his face as he watched his only daughter's shocking display of defiance, and even poorer judgment.

The object of his daughter's would be affections and growing defiance, Draco Malfoy, was poised behind Ginny with an irritatingly amused expression on his face. If Arthur did not know any better, he'd say that Draco was enjoying the spectacle.

"Oh, mother really." Ginny snorted. "I'm not a little girl anymore and I'm hardly innocent."

Molly Weasley's face went scarlet in shock, but it was Bill that was the first to reply to her outrageous remark. He eyed Draco murderously as he confronted his sister.

"Just what do you mean by 'hardly innocent', Ginny?" Bill said in a dangerously cold voice. His eyes never left Dracos face.

"Like I said before, Bill, it's not any of your business, but Draco and I have taken our relationship to a more intimate level. He's asked me to move in with him pending a formal engagement, and I've accepted his offer- thank you very much." Ginny snapped back haughtily.

" Oiy!" Ron shouted from the doorway. Hermione held a restraining hand on him, but he was only just keeping his temper in check.

All eyes turned toward the source of obvious outrage.

Draco was the first to comment. "I was beginning wondering when the Weasel would show up and add his two knuts worth? Though even with 'miss know it all', lending a hand, you're hardly any threat without Potter to back you up. I suppose the twin lunatics will be arriving next to threaten me with a rubber chicken?" Draco sneered in disdain.

"Watch it ferret." Ron warned icily. "You don't have your goons, Crabbe and Goyle, to back you up any more. I believe they were in a nasty bit of business this last spring, weren't they? Yes, I remember now. They were part of the bunch that killed Collin Creevey and tried to kidnap, Ginny. They came to a rather nasty end. Bad business that. The aurors seemed to think that they were just the muscle, not the brains behind the operation. I don't suppose that you'd know anything about that, would you?"

The implication in Ron's voice was quite clear to everyone present.

"I hardly think that I'd try to kidnap Ginny one day only to court her next, or, hadn't that thought occurred to your limited intellect, Weasley?"

"Draco, please?" Ginny began, but Ron continued, ignoring her.

"It hadn't actually, at least not the way you'd like it to appear. Bit of coincidence isn't it? A botched kidnapping by your old mates one day and then you just happen along to rescue Ginny in the nick of time from another supposed kidnapping attempt?"

"Just what are you implying, Ronald?" Ginny huffed irritably before turning adoring eyes on Draco and adding. "Draco's a hero as far as I'm concerned. I'm quite sure he saved me both of those times, though he's too modest to take credit for the first rescue. It was you wasn't it, Draco?"

Draco began to nod his confirmation but was interrupted by a derisive snort from Ron.

"A hero, hardly that? Draco's a lot of things, but hero isn't one of them. We know what a hero is, don't we 'Mione?"

Ron said as he looked to his girlfriend. Hermione nodded knowingly in confirmation. She liked this Ron. This was the Ron she'd fallen in love with. He was a master tactician, and had drawn the battle lines around Malfoy.

"Like I said, we know what a hero is. Harry was a hero, and many times over. You're no hero, are you Draco? A manipulator and schemer, most certainly. A spoilt, immodest, no good, treacherous ferret sums it up the best, but not a hero." Ron finished with a well schooled innocent expression on his face as if he had just declared the most obvious thing in the world, and he had by all accounts.

Draco's eyes were slits of loathing as he stepped forward and said menacingly. "It's time you learned your place once and for all, weasel!"

"Come teach me, ferret. Ron growled, taking up the challenge.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise, "You must be joking, weasel? You're no match for me, but, I think I can find some playmates more suitable to your ilk?"

Draco rubbed his right sleeve and four thuggish looking wizards stepped into the room from a rear door. Obviously they had been lying in wait for Malfoy's call, because they immediately set upon the Weasleys' with reckless abandon. If wands were available, the intruders would have been no match for the Weasley clan present, and their significant others. As every one's wand had been removed by security at the door, this would be a purely physical confrontation.

Normally, Ron and Bill would have proven a match against most wizards in that department. They were both in good physical condition and with four other brothers, fighting and wrestling had been a common occurrence growing up in the Weasley household. These er, gentleman, were not, however, your average wizards. These were more the well trained, hired muscle variety.

Ron had sidestepped the lunge of the nearest brute before he was blindsided by another to his left. Bill had managed to lay out one of Draco's goons and was wrestling with another as he tried to free himself to rescue Fleur, not that she needed it. Fleur had jumped on the back of one of Draco's goons and was screaming like a banshee as the half Veela clawed and raked at the tormented wizard's eyes and face.

Ron had just started to pull himself off the floor with Hermione's assistance, when one of Draco's goons kicked him soundly in the ribs and Ron crashed back to the floor groaning in pain.

Hermione lunged at Ron's assailant, heedless of her own safety. Her hissed "You filthy bastard!" was drowned out by Molly's screams of fear for the safety of her family.

Arthur was torn between comforting his wife and entering the fray. He took the intelligent course of action and began shouting for security personal.

"Help! We need help in here! Aurors- here!"

Help arrived more quickly than he had hoped.

Alan Brandt had just taken a quick rinse and donned a clean pair of jeans and fresh t-shirt, when he heard the first vestiges of an argument form the private reception area that was located next to his dressing room. Though muffled, he could easily make out Bill's and Ginny's heated voices. He opened the door to his room just in time to hear Bill ask coolly. _"Just what do you mean by 'hardly innocent, Ginny?" _

Alan felt a hollow roiling sensation in the pit of his stomach as he waited, dreading her coming answer.

"_Like I said, Bill, it's not any of your business, but Draco and I have taken our relationship to a more intimate level. He's asked me to move in with him pending a more formal engagement and I've accepted his offer- thank you very much."_

Alan felt sick. He could feel his gorge rising and fought the urge to throw up. He went to his sink and splashed cold water on his face. After a moment, he could no longer tell how much of the wetness on his cheeks was water and how much of it was tears.

_More of the latter, _he thought scornfully.

He knew she'd been dating others, Collin for one. He kidded himself that he was okay with it. He might have actually begun to believe it, but this? _She'd given herself to another man? To Draco?_

Alan stumbled back to his chair and finished dressing by putting on his socks and the dragon hide boots he'd worn earlier. He did his best to ignore the argument that ensued next door. He wanted nothing so much as to get out of there and escape into the fresh night air before he suffocated.

He'd just made the door when he heard Molly's scream and Arthur Weasley's shout for help.

Harry Potter had heard their cries for help, but Alan Brandt would answer them. He entered the side door of the reception room so quietly he might have been no more than a wisp of air. What he found on his arrival made his blood turn cold. Bill was barely managing to keep from being murdered by two thugs. Fleur was on the back of one of Bill's assailants, spitting furiously as she raked at the wizard's eyes.

Another brute held Ginny by the shoulders, though it was hardly necessary as she just stood there, dumbly watching the scene unfold before her. She made no attempt to free herself, let alone go to her family's aid. Even when her mother began to scream, she didn't even so much as ask Draco to call off his men.

Nearby, Ron was on the floor still struggling to rise while a large brute kicked and stomped on his ribs and back. The hulk was doing his best to grind Ron into a pulp. Hermione had just lunged at Ron's attacker, hissing, "You filthy bastard!" The man simply back handed her across the face as he continued his attack on Ron, unabated.

The blow to her face sent Hermione careening into the wall behind her. She tried briefly to rise before her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped back to the floor unconscious.

Alan growled low in his throat and stepped into the room.

Ron was the farthest away, but was in the most dire need. He couldn't last much longer from the pounding he was taking.

Alan Brandt began to move.

He took three quick strides and launched himself into the air. His leg shot and he angled his body behind a kick, bringing the edge of his foot, (with all his weight and momentum behind it), down on the side of the knee to the second of Bill's attackers, (the one Fleur was not currently trying to strangle). The man let out an unearthly scream as he crumpled over, clutching at his ruined knee. Alan jammed his elbow into the man's ear as he flowed past him and the man's cries stopped abruptly as he fell to the floor unconscious from the elbow strike.

Taking advantage of partner's confusion, by the loss of his comrade, Bill landed a stiff uppercut to his other attacker's jaw. The man's head snapped back, knocking a startled Fleur from his shoulders. She fell to the floor on her bum, landing with a loud 'Whump!'

She returned to the fight without a moment's pause. Only now, she was spitting her rage at Bill as well as his opponent, blaming her fiancé for intentionally causing her embarrassing fall.

Alan was a blur as he sped past Bill and Fleur without a moment's hesitation. He was confident that the two of them could easily handle their remaining opponent. In a heartbeat he had silently moved into position behind the large brute that was continuing to kick, (a now unconscious), Ron.

Too late the man stiffened in realization that someone was behind him. The brute spun around affording Brandt a perfect target as he perfectly timed a vicious kick to the man's groin.

"Urg! Umph,.. Gaaaahhh" The man groaned despairingly as he hunched over clutching at his aching bits.

Alan methodically wrapped his arms up under the man's armpits and grabbed his own wrists behind the man's back. He then lowered his chest onto the back of the brute's head and shoulders and let his own weight fall down on the man's back as he pulled his arms up. There was a sickening wet "Crack-Crack!", as the brute's shoulder blades broke under the strain.

Brandt dropped him to the floor where he screamed and thrashed wretchedly until he finally passed out moments later.

He turned and chanced a wary glance in Malfoy's direction where he both expected and found Draco, who was watching him with profound interest, but made no move of his own to intervene.

Alan knelt at Ron's side and placed his finger tips to the side of his throat.

_T__hank God! _Though he was hurt badly he still had a pulse_. _

He let out a relieved breath and then moved to Hermione's fallen form. She too had a strong pulse. Other than a slight concussion, Hermione would recover, albeit somewhat painfully. Ron however...?

Alan rose from Hermione's side and turned in time to see not Bill, but Fleur-deliver the final blow that laid her opponent out. Bill was sprawled across a table moaning softly and Fleur, having followed Alan's earlier example, drove the cruelly pointed end of her stilettos into the man's groin. His reaction was far worse than the one Alan had dispatched accordingly, no doubt a result of the sharply pointed shoe that Fleur wore, coupled with her years of dance experience.

Alan smiled grimly as she spat an unkind epitaph in French at the fallen man. She looked up and nodded to him with a smug defiant expression on her face before she turned and ran to her fiancé's aid.

Alan slowly approached Malfoy, Ginny and Malfoy's sole remaining goon, who seemed to be using Ginny more as a shield now than actually trying to restrain her.

Alan pulled a medallion from around his neck and tossed it to Arthur Weasley, calling out,

"Use this _portkey._ It will take your family directly to medical care. Go now."

"W-What about you, and G-Ginny?" He heard Molly Weasley's anxious plea from behind.

He looked into Malfoy's face and noted with satisfaction that beneath the smug exterior, worry lines creased his eyes.

"The young lady and myself will be just fine, madam. That is however, more than I can say for these other blokes?"

"Not satisfied yet, eh?" Malfoy sneered defiantly.

Alan looked surprised as he asked incredulously.

"Why settle for the tail when you can have the whole dog?"

"G-Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley called out fretfully, one a last time.

Ginny eyed Alan nervously and her boyfriend even more so, but she never moved from Draco's side.

Alan's eyes bored into hers. He reached out with his senses and let then flow into her. He delved deeper, into her mind.

_There's something? Something,not quite right. _He puzzled .

**_She,..She 's imperious'd!_**

He sighed almost gratefully,... until he realized that it was only a recent thing.

His thoughts turned bleak in understanding. She'd only been put under the imperious minutes ago before the fight had started.

_By all accounts she was in control of herself up till then, including the time when she gave herself to 's damagaed though. Ron and Hermione didn't just block all memories related to me, they,they.._

_... there's something else some sort of block on her emotions? It's like a gapping hole in her soul. i-It's more than not being able to remember love, romantic love that is. She can't even feel it!_

He shook himself out of his shock,... now was not the time.

"_Finite Imperioso Incantantum." _he breathed out so softly that Malfoy could not quite discern what he had said.

Ginny stumbled a bit and put her hands to her head as she groaned softly.

"W-What.. h-happened.?" she began bewildered.

Alan reached past a shocked Draco and grasped her by the shoulders, softly commanding, "Go with your mother." Nodding in the Weasley parent's direction

Ginny turned confused eyes up to him, but nodded dumbly before stumbling toward her mother.

"Tell the medical staff the she's been _imperious'd _he called over his shoulder, tactfully not enlightening them that it was only a very recent occurrence.

_I can salvage her reputation that much for her. At least for her family's sake. _He thought bitterly.

"_Imperioused ?"_ He heard Mr. Weasley shout in outrage.

"Get your family out of here." Brandt urged.

"Th-thank you, Har..."

"Just go!" he yelled, cutting off Mrs. Weasley before she could blindly utter his true name. _Damn Hermione's meddling and his own impulsitivity_.

A loud pop sounded as the Weasley's _port keyed _away. Alan stifled a grin as he contemplated what Madam Pomfrey's reaction would be when they all arrived in her infirmary at this hour. He could almost hear her fussing indignantly as she tended their various injuries.

"Perkins." Malfoy commanded.

The man that had been previously holding Ginny gulped nervously as Malfoy nodded his head meaningfully toward Alan Brandt. The man understandably hesitated a moment before he stepped forward, reluctantly intending to engage Brandt as his master ordered.

Alan held up a hand to forestall him.

"You've already learned what you came here to find out, Malfoy." he said flatly.

Draco was startled . Brandt obviously had seen right through his subterfuge. _This was indeed the opponent he'd been searching for. The Weasley's mysterious protector was none other than: Alan Brandt_!

Part of him wanted to stay and test the man's mettle, but another part, the part that he falsely convinced himself was his Slytherin intellect and not just base cowardice, that part wanted to flee at the nearest possible opportunity.

_Morvis can deal with him whilst I watch safely from the side lines._

Brandt smiled knowingly as if he had read Draco's mind. The effect was so unsettling that Draco found his feigned composure slipping away. More cracks formed in the veneer as Brandt taunted him.

_The man obviously knew what he had been contemplating as a diversion. _

"Your hired man is not completely innocent. He did hold Ginny Weasley against her will, but on your orders. Despite that, he still doesn't deserve what I'm going to do to you, Malfoy. Why not dig deep within yourself and dredge up whatever passes for courage in your diseased mind and face me yourself."

"P-Perkins" Malfoy stammered nervously trying to bolster his hired thug's obvious reluctance to engage Brandt.

"I was hired as a body guard, not a mercenary." Perkins rebuffed.

"Beat it, Perkins!" Alan hissed in warning.

He didn't need to ask twice as Perkins ran for the door, seriously considering another line of work as he did so.

Draco paled and his eyes shot nervously toward the nearest door.

"You'll never make it." Brandt dared him in answer to his thoughts of flight.

"W-Who are you?" Draco stammered.

Brandt smirked mischievously, "I'm Alan Brandt. Isn't that enough for you?"

"You're more than just some hack quidditch player?" Draco countered irritably.

"Most of us are more than we appear to be, though some are less,.. far less." He sneered meaningfully.

"Which are you?" Draco hissed. He didn't really care what his answer would be as he was just stalling for time as he feverishly plotted a plan of escape.

"I'm a little of both really, though you are more the latter. Stop stalling, Draco. You're not going to slip away to fight another day. In your case, I don't think** fight** is quite the right word. Fighting would require some semblance of courage and that is something you've always sorely been lacking. Your father had more courage than you, though that's not saying much. At least he tried to put up a good fight- before **I** killed him."

The smirk turned menacing on Brandt's face when he made this revelation.

The blood drained from Malfoy's already too pale face. He took on a hollow, ghostly appearance. His mind fought to make sense of what Brandt had just said. _It couldn't be? _

"You,... you're not..?" Draco stuttered as he pointed at Brandt.

"Me? Am I not?" Brandt teased as he pointed to himself mocking Draco's actions.

Brandt's smiled coyly as he offered Draco the one thing he knew he couldn't resist? The very thing that would push him over the edge…

"If you really want all the answers you seek than I'll be happy to oblige you, at the point of dying." He added grimly. Brandt's face darkened like a storm cloud as he steeled himself.

Draco screamed in rage as he threw a well aimed roundhouse kick at Brandt's head. He found only empty air as Brandt had ducked under the kick. Draco continued his momentum as he spun into a wheel kick leveled at Brandt's ribcage. Brandt ducked and spun extending his leg as he swept Draco's supporting leg out from under him, sending Draco crashing to the floor.

The air whooshed from his lungs as his fall 'knocked the wind out of him'.

Brandt could have finished him at this point, but he chose instead to back off until Malfoy could regain his composure.

He circled Malfoy warily as Draco pulled himself up into a crouch but continued to wheeze. He had just begun to step forward when Draco launched himself into a handspring propelling the heels of his feet toward Brandt's exposed jaw.

If the kick connected, the resulting jaw fracture would be the least of his injuries. Alan stepped into the kick and caught both legs at mid calf, sending his feet shooting harmlessly over his shoulders. Alan held his legs fast and dropped his weight downward. Draco's head slammed into the floor with a dull "**thud**". He was careful to hold back enough not to give Malfoy a skull fracture or inadvertently break his neck.

He intended worse, but not yet. He needed answers first.

He looked down at Malfoy's piteous form as the latter rolled back and forth on the floor, mewing softly as he cradled his aching head in his hands.

"_Legillemens_."

Alan's mind blasted into Draco's weakened and exposed one.

Draco was an experienced _occulomens_, but in his current state he could do nothing to protect himself from Harry's probes. Draco struggled pathetically to raise his shields, realizing too late Brandt's intention to rob him of his darkest secrets.

Harry saw it all:

Draco's initiation as a Death Eater; his subsequent killing of muggles.

His plotting with Morvis both for and against Morvis himself._.. _

_Draco you treacherous bastard!_

While he was at it he pulled Morvis's location and _floo _callnumber from Draco's mind.

It was time to put an end to the Dark Lord wannabe's plotting, which included:

**Draco's plan to kidnap Ginny, and why?**

_A futile attempt to draw me out into the open_, _which they accomplished, much to my regret_.

He watched in shock as Draco ran Rick Sanders thru with his blade. _Sanders had beaten him fairly and although Draco told himself it was an accident, his deeper mind knew it was his wounded vanity that caused him to strike Sanders when the latter had lowered his guard. _

Lastly, he both saw and felt Draco's lecherous, hateful thoughts of lust and greed as he took Ginny's virtue. Though sickened by what he saw he could not tear himself away as watched through Draco's eyes as Ginny, in her own misguided passion, gave herself away willingly to the man she wrongfully thought loved and cherished her as only Harry ever truly had. He pulled himself from Draco's mind and fought down the bile rising in his throat as he did so.

He felt dirty, violated. Draco's mind had been a cesspool of malice, greed, envy and treachery. Thankfully, Draco was but a pale reminder of his father and even more so of Voldemort. Harry doubted he would have survived a journey into either of those wretch's minds. He could have and would have forgiven Draco his treachery where Ginny was concerned. She was an adult and had made her own choices of her own free will. What Harry could not forego was leaving the innocent blood on Draco's hands go un-avenged.

With cool detachment, he watched as Draco slowly recovered. He thought fleetingly to dispatch Draco himself. He could do it and easily, but, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to. Draco deserved more than the quick death that he could provide. He backed off a pace and let Draco pull himself together. Finally, after several agonizingly long moments, Draco regained his feet and turned pained, but baleful eyes on his opponent.

"I'm going to kill you." he spat venomously.

"Hmm, I think not." Brandt answered skeptically. "I've looked onto the sewer you call a mind, Malfoy. I'm of the opinion that you deserve a fate worse than I could offer so I'm going to let the authorities deal with you."

"I'll die first." Draco vowed and actually meant it.

"That may be, but, I really don't think it will come to that?" Brandt said with expectant sincerity.

"Let's finish this and see how you like it when I probe your mind just before you die?" Draco sneered with false bravado.

"As far as finishing it goes? I couldn't agree more." Brandt promised with a hint of mayhem in his eyes.

They began to circle each other cautiously. Each combatant probing for weakness' in the other's defense. On the second pass, Draco shot out a side kick aimed at Brandt's knee. With split second timing, Brandt pivoted and let the kick graze his knee as it passed.

Once Draco was fully committed to the kick, Brandt brought his knees together over Draco's left shin and dropped his weight down using Draco's own left knee as a fulcrum.

A horrific "**Crack**"**, **heralded the breaking of Draco's left knee. Draco howled in pain and rage.

In his agonized fury he mistakenly threw an ill advised punch toward Brandt's face. Brandt caught his right wrist in mid air, twisted it and slammed his left forearm against Draco's right elbow. A gruesome tearing crunch echoed thru the hall as he broke Draco's right elbow.

"That's for Sanders." he intoned hollowly.

Draco's arm hung uselessly at his side as the miserable git slumped to the floor and began to cry self pityingly.

"Pathetic." Brandt whispered as he shook his head in disgust

After a moment's hesitation, Brandt resolved himself to finish the job.

He interrupted Draco's incessant mewling with."I am sorry to do this, but ,as I can't risk letting you wander off...?"

If Draco heard his remark he never indicated it as he continued to blubber from his place on the floor. Brandt straddled Draco's uninjured right leg by the ankle. Just as Draco began to scream out in sudden realization and fear, Brandt sat down on Draco's right knee. His weight proved too much as Draco's knee buckled and dislocated.

A high pitched keening wail erupted from Draco.

Brandt would have done for his left arm as well as his other ruined appendages, but the sound of anxious voices alerted to Draco's screams, warned him that his time was running short. He ripped the left sleeve from Draco's robes, exposing the 'Dark Mark' emblazoned on his forearm. The Dark Mark's presence alone would be all the evidence that the authorities required to send Draco to Azkaban for the rest of his life.

A flash of lightning filled the room as Alan Brandt departed.


	23. Chapter 23: The Truth Will Out

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-three: The Truth Will Out**

**Hogwarts**

Madam Pomfrey bustled into the Hogwart's infirmary while struggling into her dressing gown. She brushed past her office, calling out as she approached the exam area,"It that you Alan? What have you done to yourself this time? How could you have injured yourself at a dance for Circe's sake? What happened that... the Weasleys?"

She came up short staring dumbstruck at the new arrivals to her infirmary."But, how did you..?"

Disoriented faces stared blankly back at her

She left off trying to formulate a question to which she was already beginning to suspect she knew then answer.

"What's happened?" she asked in a business like fashion to the room at large as she pulled her wand out and ran it diagnostically over Ron Weasley. "Hmm, several broken ribs, a fractured nose, concussion and three loose teeth." she muttered to herself. "He'll need a lot of mending."

"We... er, had a bit of trouble after the Ministerial Ball this evening, Poppy?" Arthur Weasley began sheepishly, still holding Hermione's limp form in his arms.

"Really,…I would have never guessed?" Poppy huffed sarcastically as she ran her wand over a still unconscious Hermione Granger.

"The poor dear's got herself a concussion for her trouble. She'll need to spend a day or two in bed. Put her in the cot next to Ronald." she directed the patriarch of the Weasleys'.

"Molly, be a dear and grab me a large flask of pain potion from the cupboard behind you, wont you?" she directed Mrs. Weasley with the same polite ,but authoritative tone she'd used on her husband.

Molly Weasley hurried to do as she was asked. She was in Pomfrey's home now and in here, Poppy Pomfrey ruled the roost.

"What about Bill?" Fleur complained. "He az been urt too."

Pomfrey carelessly waved her wand in Bill's direction and replied airily.

"Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing a raw steak and a good night's sleep won't remedy."

Satisfied, Fleur returned to Bill and took up a vigilant watch at his side.

Artur Weasley cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked, "Poppy, would you take a look at our daughter, Ginny? I think she's been _imperioused?" _

Pomfrey hadn't even noticed the youngest Weasley as the girl was inconspicuously standing off to the side staring blankly into space.

The matron ran her wand over Ginny's head and hissed in disgust.

"_Imperioused_ alright… Molly, would you fetch the _restorative potion _as well?" She called over her shoulder and added in an afterthought. "It's in the large blue bottle with the silver stopper."

Moments later, Mrs. Weasley returned gasping excitedly.

"I've got the potions you asked for, Poppy."

"Good. Give a dram of the _pain potion _to Bill, Hermione and Ronald. Pinch their nose and pour it down if you have too. When you're through with that, then give your daughter a full cup of the _restorative potion_. The effects should be pretty instantaneous. Arthur! Just don't stand there man, help your wife." Poppy barked at Arthur, moving him to action.

"I'll return in a moment. I need to summon the headmistress." she said in a rather silky, bemused tone.

Poppy Pomfrey lit he fireplace and threw a pinch of _floo powder _into the flames turning them green.

"Minerva?" she called out.

Muffled snores answered her call.

"MINERVA?" She barked louder this time.

"Huh... whazamatter?" McGonagal mumbled sleepily.

"Minerva dear, your presence is required in the infirmary. We have an, er... unexpected arrival, one in need of medical attention." She purred in amusement.

"I-I'll be there in a moment." Minerva McGonagal called back fully alert now. "What's that boy done now?" She could hear McGonagal grumble irritably to herself.

Pomfrey sauntered back toward the Weasleys with smug look on her face.

Arthur Weasley eyed her curiously as she approached. His patience was beginning to wane. "Would you mind telling me what's happening?"

"I should think that you're the one to provide that bit of enlightenment. "Poppye replied facetiously.

"But do wait till the headmistress arrives, wont you?" she smirked

Almost on cue, McGonagal burst through the infirmary door blurting, "How bad is he... hurt...?"

her voice and steps trailed to halt as she took in their unexpected guests.

McGonagal looked over the rims of her glasses at Pomfrey with an accusatory, un-amused expression. She carefully schooled her features and turned toward their guests.

"Arthur, Molly, everyone…" she nodded formally to each of those present who were conscious. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Ginny Weasley who had the most curious expression on her face.

"Oww,.. my head.. What happened? Where..?"A finally awakened and still in pain, Hermione Granger, interrupted her thoughts.

"You're at Hogwart's, dear." Poppy answered reassuringly.

"Hogwarts…? Ron! Where's Ron?" she began to panic.

"He's fine, dear. A little worse for wear, but he'll be fine in a day or two." Mrs. Weasley said as she moved to comfort her surrogate daughter.

"Molly,.. h-how did we get here?" She asked in a tired, but puzzled voice.

Molly smiled knowingly and ran a tender hand a down Hermione's cheek.

"Wellll... he wasn't dressed in shining armor, nor did he arrive on the back of a white charger, but, I'd say a heroic knight came to our rescue."

Hermione's eyes went from puzzled to wide in understanding as Molly scooped her into a gentle hug.

"Might I inquire as to how you came to be in er, Poppy's tender care this morning?" McGonagal asked in a distracted voice. She was fairly certain she already knew the answer to her question, but she felt she needed further confirmation before events spiraled out of control.

Arthur Weasley was about to answer before his daughter cut him off.

"I'm afraid it's my fault professor." Ginny Weasley said hollowly.

"I was stupid enough to get involved with Draco Malfoy and he and his hired goons d-did this to everyone. I... Oh, mum..." she choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to vainly to comfort herself before continuing. "I thought he loved me, but he was just using me. I-I don't even know why he did it? There's no reason? I don't have anything that he would want…?"

"Y-You're wrong, G-Ginny." Hermione gasped as she struggled to rise from the cot she was lying on, only to groan softly and slump back down.

"Y- You have exactly what he wants... p-power." she ground out despite her pain.

Ginny's eyes searched the other, looking for some clue as to what her best friend was talking about. "I'm a pretty strong witch, but I'm nothing special. I don't have any special powers or abilities. Why would he be interested in me?"

"He was using you as bait, Ginevra." McGonagal intoned flatly, surprising the rest of them with her candor.

"Bait? Bait for what?" She asked bewildered.

"Not for what, but for whom, Ginny?" Her father conjectured in sudden understanding.

"Wha.. Daddy, please, I don't understand?"

"I-I know you don't pumpkin. I..." Mr. Weasley's words died in his throat.

"G-Ginny?" Hermione held her hand out to her friend, beckoning to her bedside.

"I have something I need to tell you." Hermione began softly.

Ginny took a hesitant step forward, pausing as her father reached out and pulled her into a one armed hug and escorted her over to her friend's bedside. "It'll be alright, pumpkin. Listen to Hermione and remember how much we all love you." h cajoled soothingly.

"Pleeze listen, Ginny?" Ginny's eyes swiveled toward Fleur's, who begged. "You hold somezing very precious in your hands."

Ginny moved woodenly toward Hermione, but before she could take two steps, phoenix song filled the room and Fawkes appeared in a burst of flame. He held a note in his beak that he gave to McGonagal. With another burst of flame, Fawkes was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

McGonagal unfolded the note Fawkes had brought and scanned its contents. Her eyes grew round as she read the note through. She'd barely finished reading the note when McGonagal called Poppy aside and whispered furiously to her friend. Whatever she had told Pomfrey, it was obvious to those present, that the healer was reluctant to arguing continued between them.

"Please, Poppy?" McGonagal breathed pleadingly.

Pomfrey seemed lost in her own internal struggle, but after a moment she nodded her head reluctantly. She turned on her heel and retrieved a small vial from a nearby cupboard and brought it to Ginny Weasley.

"I think you should take this before Hermione begins her tale.

Ginny eyed the vial suspiciously. "What is it?".

"It's just a, er, simple _calming draught._ It will make what you're about to hear a little easier to deal with."

Pomfrey glanced to Molly with a pleading look for support.

"I…ah,… think that's a good idea Ginny luv. I think we could all do with a bit of that for ourselves." her mother said encouragingly.

"Okay, mum." Ginny agreed and nodded her thanks to Pomfrey before downing the contents of the proffered vial.

She'd barely swallowed the contents before she gasped a startled "Oh...", and slumped into Pomfrey's ready arms.

"Ginny! What did you do?" her mother hissed accusingly at Pomfrey, jumping to her feet in outrage.

"She did as I requested, Molly. I am responsible for Ginny's current state. I assure you that she is in no danger." McGonagal called out, accepting responsibility.

"It was only a _dreamless sleep potion._" Pomfrey sheepishly confirmed, alleviating her family's fears.

"B-But why did you do this? I-I think she needs to hear the truth. She's strong enough to handle things now." Molly stammered as she knelt beside the cot that Ginny was currently sleeping in. Her hand absently stroked her daughter's lovely auburn hair.

"I didn't do it for her sake, but for his. He's on his way." McGonagal answered cryptically.

All eyes in the room turned to her.

As if on cue, thunder sounded in the distance while McGonagal re-read the note she still held tightly in her fingers.

_Minerva,_

_I'm sure that you know by now that I've sent some injured people to you and I trust that Poppy is seeing to their medical needs with her usual high standard of professionalism. I apologize for the late hour of their arrival, but certain unforeseen events have occurred this evening after the Ministerial Ball. _

_I have decided to honor your numerous requests and will make my presence known. I ask only the favor that you incapacitate Ginny before my arrival. I leave the method of this request up to your discretion, but I would suggest __**dreamless sleep potion**__. I will know if you have honored my request and can assure you that I will not present myself if you have not complied with my wishes in this matter. This is the only opportunity that I will grant for this meeting to occur._

_Respectfully, A/H_

_P.S. I have taken the liberty of owling Fred and George Weasley regarding their family predicament and have no doubt that... _

"Oiy! What's up with you lot?" George Weasley yelled as he came trotting into the infirmary with his twin brother just behind.

"Yeah, what's up?" Fred chimed in. "The two of us we're enjoying a pint, with a lovely set of blonde twins from Glasgow, when a ruddy screech owl comes flapping by and drops an anonymous note on me head that…"

"says you all have been taken to Hogwarts for medical attention." George finished his twin's statement for him.

"Well?" Fred asked in obvious and somewhat surprising concern as he looked around the infirmary for someone to offer an explanation.

"Blimey, mum. Ron looks like he was used in place of the dance floor." George commented, eyeing his brother's broken form.

"Father? I received a strange owl that said that some of you were hurt and I should come to Hogwarts immediately." Percy Weasley asked confusedly, but still using his formal tone of voice, as he strode into the infirmary.

All eyes turned expectantly to the headmistress.

McGonagal sighed and finished reading the note in her hand.

_-and I have no doubt that both they and their brother, Percy Weasley, will be arriving shortly. I will arrive soon thereafter._

McGonagal smirked knowingly as she thought to herself. _Harry is a step ahead of things again. He's becoming more like Albus all the time._

"Who's that note from? What's going on, Father?" Percy asked his dad.

Before Mr. Weasley could answer, Hermione continued where she had left off with Ginny. "Was it really him, Fleur? Are you sure?" Hermione breathed excitedly, trying to rise before wincing from the strain and slumping back to her pillows dejectedly.

"It waz em. I am sure of et. When he lifted ze _imperious_ _curse_ from Ginny, his shields were down for a second and I was able to sense em. It waz em, b-but there iz somezing else, somezing terrible iz within em! S-So much pain, and yet, so much love beneath it all. I don't know how he can bear it, any of et. Not even Veelas could handle such intense emotions. Ze power of it was s-staggering." she collapsed sobbing into Bill's comforting arms.

"She's in a right state. " Fred Weasley commented .

His twin offered bracingly. "Must be time for her monthly? It's probably worse with Veelas? Birds you know,… natural nesters." George earned himself a menacing glare from Bill for his cheeky comments and a rap upside his head from his mother.

"Oiy!"

**Thwoom!**

Thunder shook the castle and knocked both of the distracted twins unceremoniously on to their bums before their mother had a chance to vent her rage upon them further.

The sounds of sharp boot steps echoed hollowly from the castle corridor just beyond the infirmary doors.

Visibly shaken, Percy pulled out his wand and aimed it at the infirmary doors. "Someone's coming." he ventured worriedly.  
"Put that away." His mother hissed at him.

"Everyone please remain calm." McGonagal instructed and added reassuringly. "You have absolutely nothing to fear from the person you hear coming down the hall,... quite the contrary in fact."

The boot steps halted at the infirmary doors. Everyone waited with bated breath. Seconds seemed like minutes before the door slowly opened and a heavily cloaked and hooded figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. The hooded head scanned the room, pausing briefly in the direction of Ginny's sleeping form, finally settling on Ron's prone form. The figure walked over to Ron and placed his palm on Ron's forehead as if checking him for a fever.

"Oiy! What'd you think you're playing at?" George Weasley's alarmed voice called out protectively.

"Shut it, you." his mother demanded.

If the cloaked figure had noted the warning tone in George's voice, he never reacted to it. Seconds passed and the figure started to tremble. Moments later the stranger broke contact with Ron's broken form and staggered away. A gasp sounded from around the room as Ron awoke and sat bolt upright, blurting out to no one in particular…

"Bloody hell! I feel like I've been run over by the Hogwart's Express. Hey! What am I doing here? Crikey, I have been run over by the Hogwart's Express!" Ron finished off stunned by his present location.

"Oh… Ron!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she and her husband ran to his bedside.

The cloaked figure shied away from her as Mrs. Weasley reached out toward him in passing.

As the rest of the family gathered around an awake and obviously healed Ron Weasley, the cloaked figure made his way toward Hermione's bedside. The figure's hood dipped toward Ginny's sleeping form and for a moment, Hermione thought that he might reach out to her. Instead, the figure turned on his heals and reached out a strong hand toward Hermione's forehead. Before his hand reached her, Hermione grasped it within her own hands, drawing it toward her lips and reverently kissed the palm of the stranger's hand. She looked up into the hood of the man that hovered over her and wished fervently that she could see the eyes that she so longed to see hidden within the deep folds of the hood.

"I've missed you so." she whispered adoringly as tears spilled from her soft brown eyes.

The hand hesitated for a moment before it gentled her forehead. A moment later the cloaked figure stood back and Hermione sat up in bed smiling in wonder as she said "The pain, it's gone!"

The cloaked figure seemed to slump wearily, steadying himself on a nearby cabinet.

Pomfrey took a concerned step toward the figure but the stranger waved her away and said flatly.."It's nothing. Don't concern yourself."

The figure straightened up and strode purposely toward McGonagal. All eyes in the room turned expectantly toward the stranger, hoping desperately that the cloaked figure was who most of them hoped he would be. Hermione alone seemed to radiate a confident joy as she scurried into the arms of her waiting boyfriend.

Their, as yet unknown benefactor, stopped directly in front of McGonagal. The headmistress had a kind, almost grateful expression on her face as she looked into the hood of the figure that stood before her.

"I've kept my word and returned to say my goodbyes before I leave." the person spoke almost as if he were asking for confirmation.

"You have." McGonagal agreed. "I never doubted you would. You've always kept your word. You are a little bit earlier then I had anticipated, however." she chided.

The figure shrugged his cloaked shoulders. "Unforeseen circumstances, as usual." he answered incredulously whilst thumbing at the others where they waited behind him, by way of explanation.

"Indeed." McGonagal agreed smiling warmly, then adding. "Always the heroic knight in shining armor, eh?"

"I am no hero, Minerva. After tonight, I doubt you will remember me as one." the person said almost regretfully.

She looked quizzically into the hooded face, but before she could respond, Pomfrey ventured...

"I'll take up that challenge."

"As will I." Hermione chimed in with an almost euphoric expectation.

"I have killed people... many people, that's hardly the work of a hero." The figure stated grimly as he kept his back to the rest, remaining rigidly in front of McGonagal.

"You have killed in the defense of yourself and of those you care about. You have killed a few, yes, but you did so to spare the lives of many thousands more that would have suffered from the evil intentions of those you slew." McGonagal countered.

"And in so doing have become the very thing I sought to destroy." he added regretfully.

"Bullocks!"

"Ronald?" His mother said scathingly, shocked by his language.

"He's right , Molly." Hermione offered in support, dropping all pretenses. "I for one am not going to sit here and listen to a load of tripe about anyone so filled with the light turning to evil. It's just not logical."

After a moments silence, Fleur added a revelation of her own.

"But it iz true, i-izn't it?" Fleur asked, the figure in front of McGonagal, with a shaky voice.

The others turned to her with looks of utter shock on their faces.

Hermione's horrified eyes shifted between Fleur and the cloaked figure.

"It's not true. Tell me it's not t-true?" she begged.

"It is true, after a fashion." the figure said regretfully as he lowered his hood and shrugged off his heavy dark cloak.

Alan Brandt turned to look at Hermione and the gathered Weasleys,…looking through the green eyes of Harry Potter.

Gasps of recognition filled the room.

The cheerful face that had sang and entertained them during the Ball was now haunted. His eyes reflective pools of misery.

Hermione's groan of pain, as her heart clenched, was mimicked silently by the rest of them.

"Why could you not let me go? Y-You must let me go." he choked back in a despairing sob.

"W-We could have and eventually would have, if you had actually died, but,… we would have never been the same." Mr. Weasley's halting voice answered solemnly.

"W- Why, Harry? Why would you let us think you were dead? Why didn't you come back to us, dear?" Molly Weasley pleaded as she stepped toward him.

Harry took a step back in retreat and held up a hand to forestall her.

Molly's hand shot to her mouth to stifle a sob. His denial of her comforting embrace was like a slap to the face.

Harry glanced over his shoulder toward McGonagal.

"Do you still have the memory in your pensieve?" He asked begrudgingly.

"I do." She answered in quiet understanding of what he was indicating.

"Show them what they would know, please? I will return shortly. I have some...er, unfinished business that I can attend to in the meantime. Poppy, would you be a dear and keep watch over Ginny while the others review the memory?"

"Of course, Harry." The healer agreed reassuringly.

"Thank you. I'll say good bye for now, then." Harry began to pull on his cloak without another wordof explanation.

Hermione ran forward to embrace him.

"No! Don't go. Please, don't go, Harry." She murmured into his chest as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, holding on for dear life.

Harry stiffened in shock.

This was the first time someone had actually made any type of physical contact with him in nearly two years.

"Please?" she pleaded and began to sob into his chest. He could feel the dampness of her tears as they pressed through his t-shirt.

With agonizing slowness his steel hard arms found their way around her body and he returned her hug with tenderness.

"Shush, now." he cooed softly to her. "I'll be back shortly."

"P-Promise me? If you promise me then I know you'll return. You always keep your word." she beseeched him. Her brown tear stained eyes searched his gentle green ones.

He quirked a brief smile and said. "I promise."

Harry pulled himself gently from her arms and kissed her softly on the forehead before returning her to Ron's waiting arms.

He and Ron shared a look that was bottomless in its depth as he passed Hermione back to Ron. The pain and longing in his best friend's eyes mimicked his own.

Harry turned and made for the infirmary door, passing closely to Fleur as he did so. She gasped out, taking a frightened step back to put more distance between them.

He paused for a moment, considering her reaction before he spoke. He wore a soft smile on his face that did not quite reach his troubled eyes.

"You needn't be afraid of me, Fleur. We're not to that point, not yet anyhow. I'd just as soon die before ever harming a member of this family. Surely you of all people know the truth of this?"

"I think zat is what scares me ze most, 'Arry. Iz there nothing zat can be done?"

He chanced a glance at Ginny's sleeping form and sighed heavily before returning his gaze to Fleur. He shook his head slowly in resignation.

"I pray zat you are wrong..." she rasped in a small frightened tone.

Fleur hesitated for a moment before reaching out to grasp his hands in her own. She lifted his hands to her lips and kissed each hand gently.

"Et iz not fair... not fair at all." she breathed into his hands, choking back her tears as she did so.

The edges of his mouth quirked up into a bitter half smile as he replied.

"I've found that life seldom is." He gently removed his hands from her grasp and returned her to Bill.

The look on the eldest Weasley sibling's face told him that not all of the Weasley's were pleased to find him still counted among the living.

"Bill." was all he said in acknowledgment.

To which Bill paused before spitting out a bitter, "Potter", in return. He cast his eyes away in disgust.

"Bill!" His mother gasped in a scandalized voice, but before she could reprimand her son further, Harry intervened.

"Leave him alone, Molly. Bill's entitled to feel the way he does. I'm sure most of you are feeling betrayed and resentful regarding current circumstances. I can't say that I blame you. If I had my choice, I would have tried to do things differently, but things are what they are. Those of you who want to leave, please do so. I encourage that option. I completely understand and will harbor no ill will toward your choice to distance yourself from me, as that was my original intent."

"Well, that's very gracious of you, Harry." Bill sneered in contempt and continued. "Especially given the fact that you ran out on us and let us believe you were dead for the past year and a half. I ,for one, except your offer and gladly. Before I leave, however, I'd like to get something clear between us. I don't want you anywhere near Ginny again- **ever**!" he all but shouted in Harry's face with an unmistakably challenging tone of voice.

Harry, for his part, just stood looking at him blandly. His eyes were almost vacant and seemed to lose some of their inner fire as he stood there silently contemplating Bill's words. The rest of the room held its breath in anxious anticipation of what Harry's response would be to Bill's obvious threat.

What happened next was something that no one would have ever believed they would ever see Harry do... back down, retreat,….surrender.

"Agreed." Was all that he softly said before turning on his heel and making for the infirmary door. He paused before exiting to call back to Minerva.

"I'll return around 5pm. That should give everyone time to review the memories that Minerva has in her pensieve and still get some much needed rest. I assume that Ginny will have returned home by that time...?" At this he paused and walked thru the door calling back over his shoulder, " in accordance with Bill's wishes."

Moments later the sound of thunder echoed away into the distance.

The room was quietly subdued before Minerva addressed Bill.

"You're playing a dangerous game, William. I recommend that you take him up on his offer and excuse yourself from proceeding." she added in clipped tones.

"No actually, I think I'll stay." Bill returned smugly. "I'd like to see for myself what Harry considers a viable excuse for putting our family through all of this needless pain?"

"Bill!" his mother all but screeched in protest. She was sidetracked as another of her son's spoke up..

"No mother, William is right." Percy interrupted. "I too would like to understand what gives Harry the right to play with our emotions like this."

"Hear, Hear!" The twins added.

Mrs. Weasley stood goggling at her sons. She was absolutely dumbstruck by their attitudes regarding Harry. She sought an alliance with the one person who had always sided with her for her entire adult life. "Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat apprehensively, but still pressed forward.

"I-I 'm afraid I have to agree with the boys on the surface, Molly."

Her heart felt like it was breaking as she listened to him finish venting his own feelings on the matter.

"I'm not saying that I'm not grateful for all the boy has done, but look at the facts? Harry's brought as much pain to this family as he has joy. Surely, he's had occasion to come to us in the past year? I can't imagine anything that could excuse the grief he's caused in allowing us to go on believing that he was dead.

Molly stood staring at her husband with a look of utter disbelief on her face. She could not believe that the man she had given seven wonderful children to, could stand here and deny one that was as much his own son as all the rest. She had no words to tell him how ashamed she was of him for the first time in their life together.

McGonagal cleared her throat to draw there attention before continuing with no small hint of disappointment in her voice..

"Judging by the reaction of the majority, there appears little point to proceed further, but I'll do as Harry requested and show you the memories that he has entrusted in my keeping. If you would all follow me to my office? Poppy, would you be a dear and look after Ginevra whilst we're away? she called over her shoulder as she swept room the room with the rest of them following in her wake.

**Northern Romania**

"Morvis!"

"Wha...?"

"Morvis! Get your lazy arse out of bed and come over to the grate."

"Who dares intrude upon my sleep? I'll have you skinned alive and fed to my pets a piece at a time!"

"Oh, please. The only thing you'll be doing with your pets is mating with them, as I can't see that any descent witch would ever even consider such a prospect with the likes of you." the voice from the floo insulted.

"You impudent swine." Morvis hissed vehemently. "Just who do I have the pleasure of arranging the death of in the not too distant future?"

"Odd," the voice began incredulously, "I was thinking the very same thing for you. I had the pleasure of relieving one of your lackeys of the use of his appendages this evening. Though I am sad to say, Draco Malfoy is still among the living, but he will not be enjoying the rest of his life in any sort of relative comfort. He is undoubtedly being treated at 's as we speak, after which he will be spending the remainder of what I hope is a long life, within the confines of Azkaban."

"That's a rather bold claim." Alexander Morvis chuckled dryly. "Malfoy is a very well trained agent of mine, and agents of mine are not easily dispatched,...and never without dire consequences to the perpetrator." He finished menacingly.

"Really?" the voice questioned in mock surprise. "I thought he was rather easily dispatched. More so then those present at the Dragon Reserve last Christmas. Then again, those agents had the assistance of your little pets. If memory serves; I do believe a few of your pets also suffered by the encounter?" he remined.

"So it's you!" Morvis thundered in furious recognition. "You've made a mistake in leaving Malfoy alive. Once he's informed me of your identity, I'll be coming to deal with you myself, **personally**! he threatened.

"Malfoy won't have the chance to tell you anything as he will no doubt be locked in a passionless kiss with a Dementor soon enough. No matter though. I shall be coming to deal with you soon enough myself- **personally**! Harry returned the threat in kind before terminating the floo connection.

The sun was just starting to rise on what would no doubt prove to be a very taxing day. He contemplated returning to Hogwart's straight away, but thought better of it in favor of getting a few hours of much needed rest.

**Hogwarts**

The sun was rising and cast its warming glow through the windows of the headmistress's office. No warmth was felt by those within the confines of the room. McGonagal had just brought them all back from viewing the memories of Harry's final battle with Voldemort. She knew that he would not approve, but, she felt it behooved her not to show them the other memories that Harry had reluctantly shared with her last summer. She showed them everything, knowing as she did so that she was going far beyond what Harry would find acceptable disclosure.

She showed them his last moments with them before he went to save Ginny on that fateful Christmas night, from his view point:

_They bore tear wrought witness to his last tender moments with Ginny before he __port keyed __her safely home from Voldemort's lair. _

_They watched in abject horror as Voldemort transformed himself into the giant spectral basilisk, followed by the titanic battle that ensued between Basilisk and the true Phoenix of legend. _

Fleur was the first to break.

She screamed and burst into tears, wailing in her despair as Voldemort's basilisk fangs tore into Harry's flank, as they both fell to their doom in the caverns beneath Greystone Manor.

Her empathic powers already sensed the festering evil that Harry harbored within his soul. Now she knew the why of it.

Molly was the next to succumb to her misery over the horror he had endured for their sakes.. She watched Harry stumble through the darkness, lost in the maze of night black caverns beneath Greystone. She watched him struggle through his terrible pain to pull himself up and claw desperately for escape.

Agony beyond description was his only company as Voldemort's curse slashed through his insides like a hot knife, but this was as nothing compared to the terrible loneliness and isolation brought by the crushing black of the rocky tomb he sought to escape. It was when he called out for his "mum" mournfully, that she began to break down. It was worse, much worse, when she realized that it was her, not Lily Potter, that he was calling out for. It was then that Molly lost all composure and fled the pensieve in tears.

Arthur Weasley turned away when Harry at last stumbled into the light, having finally breeched the cavernous confinement. Harry was almost unrecognizable. Weeks of pain, starvation and despair had taken their toll. The Harry that stumbled from that cave into the freezing surf of the channel, was a testament to the human spirit. No one should have to endure so much hardship in a dozen lifetimes, let alone survive it.

_And where was I? Safe and warm at home with my family, having abandoned searching for Harry after only a few short days. _He thought this in bitter shame_._

Bill Weasley and the rest of his brothers watched almost stoically as Harry lie in a coma for months only to awaken... alone. His face and hair were different now. The change was a result of the surgeries they'd performed on his face and numerous trials of chemo meds that the muggle physicians had pumped into his body to try and combat what they thought a cancer. In a way, they were correct. Voldemort's taint ate away at his flesh, his magic and his soul. It did so more greedily than even the most malicious of cancers.

They watched him struggle through treatment after treatment until he finally regained enough strength to slip away from the hospital.

McGonagal watched the brothers fidget nervously as Harry left the hospital and came straight to the Burrow. For the first time they saw fear and uncertainty mirrored in his eyes as he made his way down the road to the only place he had ever called home. All of them, except Bill, turned away when Harry arrived just in time to watch helplessly as Ginny snogged the daylights out of Collin Creevey in the back garden. The horrific knowledge that they had moved on, that he was no longer a part of their lives was mirrored in Harry's eyes. They had abandoned him.

Bill's face was unreadable as he silently watched Harry stumble away from the scene, blinded by his own tears as he left.

Bill left the pensieve after that.

Only Hermione remained with McGonagal through each and every replay of Harry's memories up to that point. The headmistress paused for a moment considering. She knew this last memory was not meant for anyone, not even herself. Harry had discarded this memory for his own sake. He would never understand her reasoning by divulging it to anyone He had told her this explicitly, but in a moment of curios weakness, she had defied his request and viewed something that she wished she could forget, but knew she never would.

Mcgonagal knew that only Hermione, of all of them, would have the courage; the need to know the true depth of Harry's despair. This was the reason Harry was compelled to distance himself from the lives of those he loves. It was bore testament to the lengths that Harry would go to protect those he cares for.

"Brace yourself." McGonagal warned Hermione before she played the last and most terrible of Harry's memories.

Hermione steeled herself to watch the final moments of Harry's memories play out. She had never cried during the whole of what they'd witnessed. She alone had the stomach to stay and watch the scene, that she now knew; that only McGonagal alone had only ever witnessed before. She watched as a grief stricken, defeated Harry Potter, held a wand to his head and uttered a killing curse... one that failed to kill?

"W-Why didn't it work?" She whispered in a terrified voice.

"Because you have to truly mean it for a killing curse to work effectively." McGonagal answered her stoically.

"He still wants to live, then? she asked hopefully.

"No. I believe that Harry wants very much to die, however,... Voldemort does not."

Hermione's puzzled eyes grew wide in terrified understanding as the last piece of the puzzle, that was Harry's anonymous existence, snapped into place. She backed away from McGonagal. The horror of this final revelation was etched in every fiber of her being.

"**No!" **

Everyone in McGonagal's office cringed in fear as Hermione Granger came wailing out of the pensieve and ran blindly into the out stretched arms of her boyfriend.

"W-What happened?" Ron's arms clutched tightly around Hermione as she clung desperately to him wailing in misery.

"What did you s-show her?" Ron stammered accusingly to McGonagal.

McGonagal turned furious eyes on Ron and the rest of his brothers as the wrath she had held in check washed over them.

"I let her see what the rest of you, so called Gryffindors', hadn't the courage to watch for yourselves. I let her see something that Harry himself would never have wanted her or anyone else to ever see. I let her see him finally broken and beaten. I let her watch as Harry put a wand to his own head and uttered the _killing curse, _just like Ginny tried to do before you stopped her, Ronald." She spat vehemently back at them all.

"Harry wasn't so lucky though; he didn't have a family that cared enough about him to _obliviate_ him the way you did Ginny. No. He gets the pleasure of remembering what he can never again hope to have for himself- love. He cannot experience the love of a family; a wife and children of his own. Peace, contentment, joy, none of these things will he truly know. All the things that the rest of us have and take for granted, because one brave boy sacrificed himself to secure it for us."

"Why can't he? I mean, just because things with Ginny didn't work out he could find love with someone else, have a family and all that?" Percy offered innocently.

Several of his brothers nodded their heads in agreement with his words.

"He cannot! He dare not!"Eyes turned to Fleur, not McGonagal, as the originator of this denial cast in alarm.

"Not that it's any of our concern, but why not?" Bill said in a offhand voice.

Fleur looked at him in shock. Her jaw worked soundlessly as she struggled to put her thoughts into word.

McGonagal saved her the trouble.

"Apparently, only Hermione and Fleur understand some of what's happened, but I doubt that even they know the depth of what Harry's suffered at Voldemort's hands. Let me quote you from an ancient tomb entitled; **'Incantations most Dark'**. It states within its pages and I quote:

"_Of all the curses known to man, one stands above the rest as being beyond unforgivable; __**Serpensotum Necro Totalus**__. The caster of this spell transforms himself, by the use of all his ambient magic in its entirety, into a giant Spectral Basilisk. The difference between a true basilisk and a spectral one is that the poison delivered by the bite of the Spectral Basilisk not only destroys the person's body, but poisons his soul, destroying that as well. The caster of such a horrific curse gives over his life, his very essence, to ensure the total destruction of his enemy."_

"You mean that he c-can't,... he can't..?" Ron began, before his pleading voice betrayed him.

"He cannot hope to survive, neither in this life, nor in the next." McGonagal stated blunted.

Feeling no pity for them she continued along this vein. "Voldemort used up all of his magic to ensure that both Harry's body and soul were destroyed. Furthermore, because of the taint to his body, Harry cannot even consider producing a child as the corruption within him would infect the infant as well. When Harry dies, he will cease to exist for all time. That is the breadth of what he has sacrificed. He did so- not for the world, but for you, his family. He has isolated himself from you to spare you the pain of having to witness his demise all over again. His only hope is that death will claim him before Voldemort's corruption can possess him and turn him dark, before the end occurs. He is protecting you even now, as he has always done."

McGonagal finished her lecture and stepped up in front of Bill's downcast eyes. She waited patiently for him to turn his gaze upward.

"There it is. That's Harry's reasoning, his excuse for what he's put your family through. Is it enough for you, William?" she sneered mockingly.

Bill lowered his tear streaked face from hers and nodded his head slightly in shame.

"T-There must be something that can be done? A counter spell or potion, anything?" Arthur gasped in despair.

"There is actually." McGonagal said in clipped tone. "It would seem that the only possible cure for an affliction of this magnitude is a rather obscure and legendary bit of magic called the _Phoenix Fire. _You may have heard of it." She finished in a clipped, ironic tone.

"Well then, why doesn't he call the _fire_ and heal himself? What's he waiting for?"

"To feel loved." McGonagal answered bluntly. "It would seem that Harry's rather convinced that only Ginny has the key to his immense heart. He believes that his love flows from her. Now that her connection to him has been, er, severed; he can no longer summon the _Fire, _which ironically enough, could not only cure Harry, but also reverse the damage that has been done to Ginny's memory. So you see his dilemma."

"I-I've destroyed him." Hermione said in a pathetically woeful voice.

"You have done nothing of the sort." McGonagal admonished clucking her tongue in a disproving manner. "You saved Ginny's life and whether he knows it yet or not, you've given Harry a reason to live. He may deny it, but he's still desperately in love with the girl. It was Dumbledore's suspicion that Harry and Ginny not only shared a life bond, but possibly we're soul bonded as well."

She paused as some of those gathered in her office, gasped in surprise.

"I do not believe the memory charm that was applied to Ginny is the sole reason for her somewhat erratic behavior of this past year, but it is rather a manifestation of the soul bond she shares with Harry. She is essentially, lost without him in her life."

A mournful whimper from Molly followed her pronouncement.

"What can we do for them? There must be s-something we can do? Ginny is so precious to me, our only daughter, and Harry... I tried not to love him? Merlin knows I tried not to. We all knew he would most likely die at Voldemort's hands. I tried not to let myself get too attached to the boy, but, I-I couldn't help it. There's just ..."

"Just something about him that gets inside of you and opens your heart." McGonagal finished for her.

Molly's wide eyes went to McGonagal as she pulled herself from her husband's grasp. "Y-You feel it too?"

"I do." McGonagal confirmed with a knowing smile. "As does, Poppy. It took me a while to figure it out, but, I came to it eventually. It's **love**, Molly. The boy's heart is full of it. He has taken the best characteristics of a human being and incorporated them into himself. I speak of things such as; honor, courage, nobility, generosity and honesty. He had no role model, and certainly no reason to turn out this way, given the history of abuse he suffered at the hands of his only blood relatives. Despite everything against him, he still grew into an incredible man, one that I am deeply honored to call my friend." she finished proudly.

Her warm smile faded and was replaced by most severe expression.

" Now then." She began sternly. "Keep in mind that this is not the same Harry Potter that you all thought you knew. He has changed, and quite drastically!"

"That's the understatement of the century." Fred said in a voice that was for once devoid of all humor.

"What exactly did he do to Ron and Hermione? How did he heal them? I've never heard of a healer not having to use a wand?" Percy questioned the room at large.

"That's because e's not a healer. Fleur answered not bothering to mask the awe in her voice when she added.

"Arry iz an empath. He took zer injuries, zer pain and 'e made zem his own"

"You can't be serious, he's a man?" George said dumbfounded.

"What's that got to do with it?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Because only females, by history, are ze empathic. It iz a feminine trait." Fleur began knowingly. "Empathy occurs in ze women because we ar more compassionate, nurturing. We are ze bringers of life." she finished sweeping her long, silken hair back over her shoulder in a rather haughty, proud fashion.

"He is now empathic, and far more." McGonagal agreed as she drew their attention back to herself.

"He has trained himself diligently. He has become for all intents and purposes: a living weapon."

She added sadly "I'm afraid that I, myself, am somewhat to blame for this. I insisted upon him following a course of exercise and training that would allow him to defend himself in the muggle world as he would no longer be able to survive in the magical one without the use of his ambient magic. However, other powers have also manifested themselves within Harry. He has become more dangerous than you can possibly imagine."

She paused to let her words sink in before continuing.

"If you have it within you, if you feel anything for this young man, then show him?" she pleaded.

"For Circe's sake people! Don't give up on him, for he has never given up on you. Go home and rest. If you would prefer to remain than you may use the dorm rooms available in Gryffindor tower. The password is,…" she paused smirking. "The password is - _Phoenix Rising. _Get some rest. Talk to one another. Decide for yourselves what, if anything, you want to do and return to my office by5pm. Today could well prove to be the turning point of your entire lives."


	24. Chapter 24: An Office Visit

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters**.

**C****hapter Twenty-Four****: ****An Office Visit**

_** The Daily Prophet**_

_** Brandt has audience –'Dancing on the ceiling'!**_

_In what is currently being tabbed the event of the year, The Chudley Cannons own star seeker, Alan Brandt, was the surprise performer for last night's festivities for the Ministerial Ball. Brandt opened last night's performance with a beautiful love song. He sang over a darkened dance floor lit by faeries, before the lights came up and he launched into a rousing song titled, "Dancing on the Ceiling", by muggle singer/songwriter: Lionel Ritchie, which is exactly where the startled audience found him; _

_DANCING-ON-THE-CEILING !._

_Mr. Brandt's performance for the evening was nothing short of absolutely stunning. Not only was his voice superb, but he proved that he has an incredible range and held the entire audience spellbound throughout the evening. It's this reporter understanding that the Cannon's front office has been bombarded with floo calls this morning, from both adoring fans and several serious offers from recording studios around the continent. Brandt finished the wonderfully magical evening with a hauntingly beautiful encore that sang of unrequited love, leaving the house with nary a dry eye._

_**In other news:**_

_** Malfoy a Death Eater!**_

_Draco Malfoy, the son and heir of the infamous Death Eater, Lucious Malfoy, was found incapacitated in an antechamber off of the Ministerial Ballroom. Malfoy was found unconscious with several broken and dislocated limbs. His garments were torn and authorities on the scene, discovered that Draco Malfoy's exposed right arm harbors the "Dark Mark", a sign of the late, You Know Who's Death Eaters._

_Malfoy was taken to St. Mungo's for emergency medical care and is currently under heavy guard. A ministerial representative, speaking under terms of anonymity, has reliably informed this reporter that Malfoy is considered under arrest for crimes of terrorism and treason. Once recovered from his injuries, Malfoy will be transferred to secure detention while awaiting trail and most probably lifetime imprisonment for heinous crimes against the magical and muggle world._

"Whew! Harry was really hedging his bets last night, eh Gred?"

"I'll say he was, Forge" his brother chimed in agreement.

"Since when can Harry sing anyway? He used to croak like a bullfrog in the showers, after a quidditch match, back at Hogwarts. Was he really as good as the Prophet is making out?" George inquired of the room at large.

"He waz ow you say et, ze- WOW!" Fleur said with a delighted purr, earning herself a jealous glare from her fiancé.

The Family had gathered in its entirety,(including Charlie Weasley), at 3pm to discuss their options before they returned to Hogwarts to meet with Harry at 5pm. Ginny was still sleeping, blissfully unaware from the lingering effects of the _dreamless sleep potion _that Madam Pomfrey had slipped her earlier that day. At first outraged, the family viewed Pomfrey's act as one of kindness, in the face of the difficult decisions with which they were now faced.

"I would have never thought that shy Harry Potter could have taken the stage and crooned to a bunch of lovesick, adoring witches. It truly boggles the mind." Fred chortled.

"Yeah, what do you reckon was up with that?" Ron questioned pointedly.

"Oh Ronald, really?" Hermione huffed with a roll of her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, apparently not." Bill said snidely. "I'm still mystified by the whole thing. I would have never guessed he had it in him. If you had told me two years ago that Harry Potter would one day be on stage singing and dancing professionally, I'd of had you thrown in the Mental Ward at St. Mungo's."

"Well, that's the point isn't it?" Hermione lectured. She looked at all the puzzled looks she was receiving from the rest of the Weasleys, Fleur being the only exception.

"Don't you see? It was the perfect cover. No one would believe it, including us! I admit he had me fooled right up till the end when that last song he sang gave him away."

"Yeah, what was all that about?" Bill asked, looking at Fleur." I mean it was a nice song and all, but what had you so upset?"

"Honestly, you men?" Molly Weasley scolded. "He was singing from the heart. He was singing about h-himself, himself and Ginny." Molly finished as she choked back a sob.

The men in the room dropped their eyes to the floor, quietly pondering the carpeting as the women shared a knowing look amongst themselves.

Molly Weasley cleared her throat pointedly to start things off.

"Now then, what's to be done is the question?" Arthur asked his family.

"What do you mean, what's to be done?" Ron quipped angrily as his ears reddened. "This is Harry we're talking about for Circe's sake. He's as much a part of this family as any of us. He belongs here, with us."

"Here, Here." Fred put in.

"A likable chap I must say." George agreed. "New blood to test out a prank or two on. Am I not right my brother?"

"Indeed you are." Fred agreed. "This lots becoming a bit stiff and Harry always did enjoy a good prank."

"Especially on little Ronnekins" George sniggered.

"Shut it you." Ron growled. "This is serious. We're talking about Harry."

"Always misunderstood." Fred whispered with mock sadness.

"No one ever takes us seriously my brother." George added with a touch of melancholy."

"That's enough boys." Their mother scolded.

Percy and Bill shared a troubled look. Percy took the lead and spoke first. "Father, I'd like to add something if I may? Harry's gone to great lengths to distance himself from this family and his friends, I think it prudent that we honor that decision and move on with our lives."

Ron bolted angrily to his feet.

His brother Charlie beat him to the punch. "Always the coldly logical one, eh, Percy? Nice to see that some things never change; you're still a world class prat. What has the ministry got you doing these days? Have they promoted you from measuring the thickness of cauldron bottoms to counting the threads in magic carpets?" Charlie sneered disdainfully at his younger brother.

"Now see here..?" Percy shot back in outrage, before Bill cut him off.

"I agree." Bill said stoically.

"Well it's about time you got on board big brother." Charlie said appreciatively.

"No" Bill began. "You misunderstand me, Charlie, I agree with Percy.

I think it's for the best, for all concerned, that Harry remains out of our lives. He's a wanted man as Harry Potter. If the world knew that Harry was still alive, every dark wizard within a thousand miles would be gunning for him. Despite all that, he's still beyond dangerous as he's got a piece of Voldemort's soul stuck inside him just waiting to take him over. Does anyone of us want to be within a thousand miles of him when that happens?"

"I reluctantly have to agree." All the eyes in the room, some grateful, others shocked, turned toward Arthur Weasley.

"Arthur? You can't mean that? This is Harry. He's like our own son."

"Molly, dear,... I must agree with Bill and Percy. Yes, this is Harry, and yes, he's just like one of our own, but the facts are clear. Harry's a danger to everyone around him, especially Ginny."

"But, Arthur. He's one of our own." his wife pleaded

"Molly , didn't you intend to sacrifice Ginny the night that Harry left to rescue her from Voldemort. Weren't you sacrificing one child for the safety of the others? How am I doing any different now?" Arthur asked his wife sadly.

His words pierced her heart like a knife. She was undone by her own past act.

Reluctantly, Molly had to admit to herself that his concerns were well founded. Harry was dangerous and anyone near him would be in danger until he could find some way to free himself from Voldemort's hold.

_Curse that foul creature to the depths of hell for what he's done to my family. _She thought bitterly.

"But if he could free himself from Voldemort's hold?" Molly asked hopefully.

"Then I would be the first to welcome Alan Brandt to our family, but Harry Potter must remain, dead."

"I-I guess." Ron agreed sadly with his father startling the room.

"RON?" Hermione screeched in utter shock.

"Aw come-on Hermione," Ron began to argue, albeit reluctantly. "You know dad's right? Harry will always be in danger unless all the evil's removed from the world, and I don't see that happening anytime soon. As Alan Brandt he's famous, but at least the only danger around him is from an overzealous autograph seeker, not a dark wizard. If he can get free of Voldemort's hold, then yeah, let's bring Alan Brandt into the family. What's the difference, we'll still know he's really Harry.

"What's the difference? WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?" Hermione shrieked. "I'll tell you what the difference is in, Ronald. The difference is that he's Harry. He was born Harry James Potter. He became our friend as Harry Potter. He's saved all of our lives countless times as Harry Potter. He gave up his life, his very soul for everyone in this room, as **Harry Potter**. Now, you're all going to betray him as **Harry Potter**, but you're telling yourselves it's okay because he's no longer Harry, but Alan." her voice trailed off as no more than a whisper before she fled the Burrow in tears.

"Hermione, luv.." Ron called reaching out as she bolted past.

"Don't touch me!" she sobbed scathingly, slapping his hands away and running out the door.

Ron sank dejected into his chair and ran his hands worriedly through his hair as he tried to grasp the magnitude of what she had just said to him.

"Don't worry little bro', she'll come around and see this is for the best. She's just a little wrung out right now. Give her a chance to cool down and look at things logically. It's not like we're writing Harry off altogether. We're just setting a few parameters down so that everyone's safety is taken into account. Harry will understand. That's why he's set things up the way he has in the first place." Charlie consoled his younger brother. Obviously, Charlie he had changed his mind and was now in agreement with the majority.

They we're going to toss Harry aside.

The room turned solemn as all parties nodded their heads shamefully in silent agreement, all save one.

"You are of course azzuming that he wanz to ave anyzing to do wiz you? I for one do not." Fleur said haughtily as she rose from her chair.

"Fleur, luv… you know it's the right thing to do for the time being. You yourself said you were afraid of him."

"I am, Bill. I am afraid of him, but I am even more afraid **for** him. He az suffered zo terribly in ze past and even more zo now. He puts up a good front, but he iz in ze terrible pain... zo terrible." she left off sadly.

Faces paled around the room as she began to rail, "Et would be a mercy if we just killed 'Arry. I for one could not be more ashamed if we did." Fleur finished as she left the Burrow in Hermione's wake.

Bill watched his fiancé walk out the door with a mournful expression on his face. He knew she was right. She and Hermione both were right but, he still had to do what was best for his family even if that meant protecting them from one of their own.

**5pm**

It was 4:50pm when a grim faced, woeful looking group of friends and family, flooed into Headmistress McGonagal's office. Poppy Pomfrey gave Minerva a frightened, questioning look. Her friend confirmed her fears when she shook her head dejectedly.

McGonagal knew their decision. It was etched in all of their faces, all save two: Fleur and Hermione. Fleur was casting disgruntled looks at the rest of them, except Hermione, whom she favored with the occasional supportive glance.

Not surprisingly, Hermione Granger was standing off from the others, snuffling softly.

What was surprising is that Ron Weasley was not standing with her, but was hovering between her and his family. His face wore a torn, trapped expression.

Minerva McGonagal was just about to give them all a piece of her mind when the sound of approaching thunder drew her attention.

"He's coming." She breathed, taking grim satisfaction as she watched her guests stiffen in dread anticipation.

Moments later, soft footfalls echoed with increasing volume as they heard someone climb the staircase to the headmistress's office. Moments passed and all too quickly, for all concerned, Alan Brandt stepped into Minerva McGonagal's office with a benign expression on his face. He had no sooner entered the door when he found himself encased in a rib cracking hug from a crying, chestnut haired female.

"Isn't this how I left you this morning, Hermione? Surely, you haven't been crying all this time?" he said in mock amusement.

A few nervous chuckles sounded from around the room.

"H-Harry I,.. Harry..." Hermione tried to choke out between sobs as she clutched him even tighter.

He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt.

"Shush now." he soothed. "Why don't you go on up to the Astronomy tower and watch the sunset? It's quite lovely these days?" he suggested, distracting her.

"I'll be along in a bit so that we can have a word."

Hermione nodded gratefully into his chest before she stepped away thru the door to the office, and left the others without a backward glance.

Harry stepped into the room, closing the door behind himself as he did so. He'd barely turned around when Bill Weasley addressed him in earnest.

"Harry we've decided that for the time being you should maintain your distance from the family, at least until such time as you can rid yourself of Voldemort's influence. Once that has been accomplished we would very much like to welcome you back, but with the understanding that you remain, Alan Brandt. You have to understand that as Harry Potter you will always be the target of dark wizards, but as Alan Brandt, although a celebrity, no real danger would be involved in associating with you." Bill Weasley was obviously voicing the decision of the rest of the group.

He alone at least had the courage to look him in the eye as he was casting him aside.

"Why thank you, Bill." Harry sneered sardonically. "That's very gracious of you."

The irony of his own words being used against him was not lost on Bill Weasley as he snarled. "Look Harry, we didn't do this to you, you did it to yourself. You can hardly blame us for wanting to protect ourselves?"

"I do not blame you for taking precautions. I would have thought that past experiences would have instilled in all of you a need to be more protective and less impetuous. If you had looked after yourselves better, my involvement in your behalves would have hardly been necessary, but that was my decision, my folly, as it were. What I can and do blame you for is butting into my privacy. If you wanted me well and gone from your lives than why go to such great pains to find me and compromise my identity?"

"It wasn't my idea, pal." Bill spat contemptuously. "I was just there at the Ball, enjoying a lovely evening with my fiancé. As to the other, that was personal **family** business that you should have not intruded upon. We were doing fine before you took it upon yourself to get involved. Nobody asked youfor your unwanted assistance."

Harry gave him an incredulous look before rebutting.

"Let's see,I do seem to remember Arthur calling out for help and,.. Oh yes, you and Ron were doing fine, just fine, at protecting yourselves and your family." he sneered.

Recalling further to stress his point: "Ron was unconscious and Hermione was on some thug's back spitting and hissing like an alley cat, whilst the brute went about kicking Ron like a football. You were doing great shakes as well. If it hadn't been for Fleur I'm sure that you, Ron and Hermione would all be recovering in St. Mungo's as we speak, if lucky, and Ginny would be _imperioused,_ under Malfoy's complete control. I'm sure he would have treated her most kindly as he was undoubtedly deeply in love with her? You could tell by Malfoy's reactions, the high esteem that he held for both her, and her family." Harry snorted that last.

"Boys, please?" Mr. Weasley cautioned before their obvious animosity for one another descended to a more unfortunate level.

Bill, however, was already on his feet and walking purposely toward Harry, who for his part just watched completely unconcerned as the eldest Weasley come forward in a challenging manner.

A collective gasp sounded from around the room as the family tensed for the coming confrontation.

Professor McGonagal conjured a box of popcorn and she and Pomfrey watched excitedly from their seats as the show began.

"Harry, dear. Please come to me for a moment." Molly Weasley held out her hands beckoning him into her embrace, trying to avert the coming storm.

Harry's eyes flicked in her direction for a moment before Bill's challenge distracted him.

"Yes, Harry, why don't you run and hide behind our mum's skirt, seeing as how you don't have a mum of your own to hide behind."

Mouths fell open in shock at Bill's cruel comments.

Harry's eyes flicked away from Molly's waiting embrace. If he would have come to her, she would now never know. Bill had ruined that for her, though she couldn't fathom why. She let her hands fall sadly to her sides as she slumped back into her seat next to her husband.

Bill pulled his wand as he advanced on Harry, ignoring his own father's shout to "stop this", as he made to the curse Harry.

Fleur was begging him to stop as well. "Bill, pleaze? Pleaze don't do zis!"

Minerva and Pomfrey were happily munching away on popcorn as they watched the scene unfold. They acted as a pair of school girls watching a Saturday matinee at the movie theatres.

"This is gonna be good, Poppy" McGonagal chortled.

Bill was only few feet from Harry when he aimed his wand and began to utter a curse. Harry merely snapped his fingers and Bill's wand materialized in his hand.

Bill paused a moment and stared stupidly at his now empty hand.

"Little boys should not play with pointy sticks." Harry admonished. "They might get hurt."

With a quick snap, Harry broke Bill's wand in two and let the pieces fall to the floor.

The rest of the room watched in silent amazement at the effortless use of wand-less magic that Harry displayed.

McGonagal and Pomfrey tilted forward on the edge of their seats in anxious anticipation as they munched away on their popcorn.

"This would be better with salt." Pomfrey said in an offhand manner.

George Weasley, nearby, conjured a salt shaker and held it poised over their bag of corn.

"May I?" he intoned politely.

"Why, Mr. Weasley, how gallant of you, please sir?"

He salted their treat with a knowing smirk plastered on his face, oblivious to his elder brother's impending plight.

At seeing his wand fall broken to the ground, Bill shrugged off his initial shock and drew back a fist to launch a punch at Harry's face.

He snarled out, "You sodding bastard!"

Bill then made his second mistake of the evening when he tried to punch Harry.

Harry merely side stepped with lightning reflexes, grabbing Bill's elbow as the punch passed harmlessly by. Harry pushed Bill toward the open door with his free hand to his shoulder and he gave him a sound kick in the arse for good measure.

Bill launched thru the doorway with an "**oomph**", as Harry's foot connected with his backside.

Several screams and curses echoed back to the office as Bill Weasley cascaded down the spiral staircase from the Headmistress's office.

Harry peeked his head out the door and watched his ongoing descent as he sniggered thoughtfully to himself out loud: "Not, bad. Maybe I should seek a career in Professional football after I retire from quidditch?"

The rest of the room sat stunned as Fleur jumped from her chair and hurried after Bill, hurling an admonishment as she passed.

"That waz not necezzary, 'Arry!"

Harry merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as she left and offered a feeble, "He was being bitchy," for an excuse.

Charlie Weasley snarled to his feet, pulling off his robes as he did so.

Fred and George nodded to the headmistress and matron, "Mind if we join you, ladies?" Fred asked hopefully.

"Fine, Fine." Pomfrey accepted jovially. "The more the merrier."

"Care for some popcorn?" Minerva offered their guests.

"Most kind." George quipped as he conjured a six pack of butter beer stating," Can I tempt you, ladies?"

Pomrey clapped her hands in amused gratitude as she giggled out."What a spiffing idea. This is turning into quite a party isn't it?"

"Oh look?"

Fred pointed toward the front of the office indicating Harry and his second oldest brother, as Charlie stalked warily forward. "The second feature's about to begin!" he guffawed.

"A galleon on Charlie." George piped in.

"Hah!" McGonagal scoffed. "Make it ten and I'll give you 3-1 odds."

"Done!" George pounced on her offer.

"I'll take a piece of that action if the books still open, but let's make it a nice even fifty galleons?" Fred upped the ante.

"You're on!" Pomfrey accepted the bet before her friend could snap it up.

Charlie stalked menacingly forward toward Harry.

"That was a neat little trick you pulled with Bill, Harry." he barked out with grudging respect- before challenging, "But how are you when they come a little bigger and know how to use their fists?"

Harry cocked a grin and said playfully. "Welcome to the dance Charlie. I'll be a gentleman and let you take the lead."

"Very sporting." Charlie growled as he swung furiously at Harry's chin.

Harry stepped into the punch and let it graze harmlessly past his ear as he head butted Charlie in the nose whilst simultaneously kneeing him in the groin. Charlie lurched forward as blood spurted from his nose.

He clutched at his agonizingly wounded groin gagging out a painful " Ugh, Ack,.. Gaaa!"

"Not the most loquacious, gent in the family." George offered apologetically.

"Quite understandable, given the circumstances." Pomfrey said with experienced acknowledgment.

Harry spun out from Charlie's lunge as the latter tried vainly to get his hands on his quarry. Harry followed with a palm strike to the back of Charlie's head that sent Charlie rocketing thru the office door. Several grunts and spewed epitaphs heralded his fall down the spiral staircase as Harry called through the doorway, "Look out below!"

Howls of laughter sounded from the rear of the office as Fleur's voice screamed up from the bottom of the stair upon Charlie's unexpected arrival, "Mon-deu! Dammet, 'Arry!"

"Oiy, Percy. You're next mate." Fred crowed delightedly.

"Yeah, Perce,…You're the next eldest. It's up to you to salvage the family's honor." George chimed in merrily, earning himself a baleful glare from his mother in the process.

Astoundingly, Percy pulled his wand from his pocket as he rose to his feet and leveled it at Harry saying. "I'm not afraid of you, Potter, but I don't intend to lower myself to common fisticuffs. Draw your wand."

"Fifty galleons on Potter?" Pomfrey whispered to George.

"No way." George said skeptically.

"A duel?" Harry raised an eyebrow in question. Percy nodded grimly.

Harry raised his arms and twirled himself slowly around stating, "But, as you can see, I am unarmed."

"Fifty it is." George reconsidered and accepted the offered bet.

"You can do wand-less magic." Percy spat out as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Harry's reluctance.

"Ah, but you know that does have its limitations."

"Can you make it a hundred?" George asked sheepishly of Pomrey.

"Done!" the matron replied as she pounced greedily on his offer.

Fred rolled his eyes at his twin and mouthed the words _stupid git. _He knew, (from recent experience), a sucker's bet when he saw it.

"Somebody lend him a wand?" Percy commanded the room, keeping his wand trained on Harry all the time.

Harry waved the offer away stating calmly, "Not necessary. You may fire when ready, Percy..."

Percy sneered predatorily as he fired a stunner at Harry's defenseless chin. Harry yawned in a bored fashion, disguising a wave of his fingers as he did so. A glimmering golden shield sprang into being in front of him.

The red light of Percy's stunner rebounded off the shield and slammed back into an unsuspecting Percy.

Percy pirouetted through the air before falling unceremoniously to the office floor in a crumpled heap. He struggled to rise for a moment as his brother cheered out encouragement.

"Get up!" George yelled desperately, but Percy slumped back to the floor unconscious.

"Pathetic Wanker." George spat out to Percy's fallen form. "You cost me a hundred galleons!" He added incensed as he withdrew the coins from his much lighter purse and placed them in Pomfrey's beckoning palm.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the twins and asked coolly. "I suppose you two fancy a go as well? What's it to be, rubber chickens at ten paces?" He scoffed with a slight quirk of a smile forming at the edge of his lips.

"Aw, now Harry, don't go getting on your ear?" George began before smirking at his twin and sniggering. "Get it Fred- ear?" He pointed to his missing ear to clarify his obvious pun.

"Pathetic." Fred groaned in response before turning back to a waiting Harry.

"No thank you, Harry. We know a ringer when we see one, besides; we're business men as you know. We can't get involved in something as petty as common brawling, it looks bad for the public image and all that."

"Ear, Ear !" His twin chimed in agreeing with a devilish smirk.

"Enough with the ear jokes already you mindless dolt!" Fred chastised before turning back to Harry and continuing. "Rather than continue this unpalatable venture, on behalf of my erstwhile brother and myself, I wish to offer our surrender. I pledge to match the total of our gambling losses this evening as a donation to the foundation you so generously started for orphaned magical children, as terms of our surrender, of course."

"Double it." Harry demanded in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Done" Fred agreed proffering his hand which Harry eyed skeptically before moving to shake.

"Hey?" George griped, "You could have at least bargained with him." George reprimanded his twin

"With what, our own teeth?" Fred shot back incredulously.

Both brothers fell back into their seats laughing at their own joke.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room as Harry eyed Ron, who remained with his back turned to the room, gazing out the office window. He appeared oblivious to the goings on in the room around him.

Harry turned toward Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and was about to say something when Fleur came struggling into the office shouldering a well used pair of elder brothers and swearing profusely under her breath in French. She dumped Bill and Charlie's bleeding forms unceremoniously onto an empty couch.

Mrs. Weasley ran over to see to her sons' obvious injuries. Bill cradled his head in his hands and was groaning. Charlie still held his groin with one hand and had his nose pinched with the other, trying vainly to staunch the flow of blood from his broken nose.

Mrs. Weasley had her wand out and was muttering healing charms as she ground out irritably,

"Serves you both right. I don't know what the two of you could be thinking, attacking poor Harry like that."

Fleur rolled her eyes in disgust before rounding angrily on "poor Harry". She planted her fists on her hips as she stalked toward him.

Fred conjured two more bags of treats and sat back down on the loveseat with his twin. He offered one of the bags to Pomfrey and McGonagal offering, "Roast peanuts, ladies?"

The ladies accepted the bag and the four of them began munching away happily as they merrily watched the coming exchange.

"Waz zat **really** necezzary, 'Arry? You could have killed one of zem, throwing zem down zee stairs zat way!" she complained angrily.

"Nay" Harry waved her off airily. "I cast a _cushioning charm _on the stairs as Bill fell. Neither of them was in any danger of receiving more than a few bumps and bruises."

A disappointed "Awww" Sounded from the direction of the twins, in acknowledgement of this information.

"If zat iz so, zen why iz Charlize's noze brokeen?" Fleur harrumphed.

"That wasn't the stairs. I did that to him before I launched him down the stairs." Harry responded dismissively with a snicker.

The rest of the room, including a previously subdued, Arthur Weasley, laughed at his response.

"Et iz not funny!" Fleur snapped as she stamped her foot angrily.

The rest of the room fell apprehensively quiet.

"I do not like zis. Familiz should not be fighting amongst zemselves zis way." she reprimanded the room at large.

Harry cleared his throat drawing their attention. "But, as you have all graciously reminded me?" he acknowledged quirking an eyebrow at the incapacitated Weasley's around the room for reference,

"As Harry Potter, I am not, nor will I ever be, a member of the family. As, Alan Brandt, I could be accepted, but somehow I get the feeling," He rubbed his knuckles indicating the previous fights with Bill and Charlie as a reference, "- that I would never be entirely welcome."

" 'Arry, pleaze understand? I would like to…" Harry waved Fleur to silence as he continued speaking to the room whose members were now quiet and had their eyes to the floor.

"As I said before, I did not want this. I had hoped to remain blessedly anonymous to all of you. The time for mourning me, if at all, has long since passed. You now know why I could not return. You've seen my memory of that event, have you not?"

He turned a questioning eye on Professor McGonagal, who acknowledged. "They have."

"Alright then. Minerva, If you would be so kind as to now destroy the remnants of those memories as they have served their purpose in that they have at least provided you all with an explanation for my actions..

"What?" Arthur Weasley complained aghast "You can't possibly, they're important historical info..?"

"They're my memories" Harry finished for him. "They are mine and mine alone. They are no one's business, but my own. My private memories are just that, **private**. As I have **no**family to leave them to, (he emphasized the word **no**, causing Mr. Weasley's face to blanch in painful understanding), then they are better off dying along with me when the time comes. Besides, there is nothing there that anyone of good conscious would wish to see. There are already enough nightmares left in the world without adding to their numbers. I have pledged myself to doing my best to rid the world of a few more of these subsequent "nightmares" before my time passes. Beyond that, my only wish is to play a bit more quidditch and live out my days as peacefully as I may. I do not think that is a lot to ask, is it?"

Arthur Weasley shook his head dejectedly and slumped back into his chair- defeated.

Harry let his eyes drift around the room lingeringly, longingly, on each of them a moment before he passed onto the next.

Ron kept his back to the room as he continued gazing out the window; an occasional shudder betrayed his stoically calm appearance.

"Minerva, Poppy,... I should like to return after the World Cup to say a proper goodbye. I do not include either of you in what I'm about to say."

McGonagal and the matron nodded their heads in solemn understanding.

He turned woeful, timeless eyes on the rest of those gathered around him.

"I did not want this for you. I did not ask this of you. I am not **beholden** to you. I have done my part for the wizarding world. I have asked nothing of it and not surprisingly, it has not disappointed me by offering anything unconditionally in return. I came here today only with the intentions of saying my goodbyes and wishing you all well with no hard feelings. I have not asked, nor have I expected anything from you and much like the rest of the wizarding world, you have not surprised me... Fare well."

Harry turned on his heal and strode toward McGonagal's office door.

A familiar, grief stricken voice yelled, **"Harry!" **from behind, stopping him in his tracks.

Ron rushed forward and moved in front of Harry as the latter seemingly refused to turn back toward the rest of those present.

Blue eyes searched pleadingly into nearly vacant green eyes.

"H-Harry mate. Y-You can't leave thinking that I want this? Please Harry, there must be some way for you to fix this?" Ron pleaded.

"What must I fix, Ron?" he asked hollowly.

"This Harry" he splayed his arms indicating the whole of them "For God's sake mate, you're empathic aren't you? If anyone could fix Ginny, it'd be you. Then you'd have a chance to cure yourself too?"

Harry cocked his head to one side in question and said. "I wasn't aware that anything was wrong with, Ginny?"

"Well, there isn't, not really anyway, except, except for..?" Ron began defensively before Harry cut him off coldly.

"Except for the fact that you took it upon yourselves to rape her mind and steal all of her memories of me, that elicited any emotions, away from her? I had contemplated giving you and your family the same mercy and take away the last six months of the memory of my influence in your lives, so that you could continue your lives blissfully unaware of my continued existence." he finished contemptuously.

Ron turned a shade of green and stepped back in revulsion, at the prospect.

"I see by your own reaction that you're as abhorrent of the idea as I'm sure Ginny was at the time. Tell me, Ron, did she beg you not to do it?"

"H-Harry, I,... you can't know, she was trying to kill herself. There was no other way." Ron stammered out in a feeble defense.

Tears began falling from anguished eyes, both blue ones and green.

"I would ask for that same mercy for myself, but with Voldemort's taint inside me, I can ill afford even a momentary lapse of clarity due to memory loss. There is perhaps something you could do for me though, if you truly want to help me and ease my pain?"...

"Ron- don't!" McGonagal hissed in warning from the background.

..."Anything. I'll do anything, Harry. You can count on me. I promise. I won't let you down." Ron blurted without thinking.

McGonagal began rushing forward in alarm.

"What is it, Minerva?" Molly Weasley called out in a fearful voice as she rose from her chair along with her husband.

Harry was one step ahead of them. Wandlessly he raised an enormous shield between Ron's back and the advancing parents and McGonagal. Another flick of his fingers and a _silencing charm_ was in place.

Ron's eyes became suddenly fearful as Harry's bore into his and he whispered out to his friend. "Kill me."

"W-What,… Harry, you can't m-mean it?" Ron blurted aghast.

Minerva was struggling to get past the other Weasley's just as a golden shield formed before them, holding the rest of them at bay from the pair. She called out to Ron to not listen, but the _silencing charm_ Harry placed was too strong.

Molly was sobbing hysterically in the background.

The brothers were firing a volley of spells trying to break thru the barrier, but nothing they tried so much as made a scratch in the shield that Harry had conjured.

"I do mean it, Ron." Harry pressed on, focusing his attention solely on Ron.

"Please, I'm begging you? If I could do it myself I would, but, the bastard won't let me. Every day Voldemort's hold grows stronger and I weaken a little bit more. If you ever cared anything for me, anything at all, then do it before it's too late and he turns me into something out of my own nightmares. Please, Ron?" he begged desperately.

Ron was shaking his head furiously trying not to listen. His family's muffled shouts from behind the shield were begging him not to listen to Harry for all the good it did them. They we're shouting repeated denials and making all sorts of false platitudes that Harry could see from his vantage point. He ignored them as he pressed further, focusing solely on Ron.

"Please, brother, do this last thing for me? There's no one else I can ask? No one who would even cares enough to listen. I can't take the pain, Ron."

"Oh God, H-Harry,.. no..." Ron was shaking violently, his resolve beginning to crumble. He couldn't imagine the kind of pain his friend must be in for someone of Harry's fortitude to want to give up. Ron had never heard Harry admit he was in pain- never! Harry always said he was "fine", no matter how terrible things were, he always said he was,"fine". For Harry to admit that he was in pain and to actually give up and ask for death, was beyond comprehension.

_He must be beyond agony. _

Ron was breaking and Harry knew it, even without the use of his empathy, he knew Ron.

"I'd consider it a mercy, Ron. My pain would end. I could finally be at peace. No more pain. No more fear or loneliness. If you truly love me, then set me free, Ron."

"H-Harry, I-I.." Ron pleaded.

"Please, Ron?"

Harry's eyes held such love in them that Ron felt himself compelled to do as his best friend asked.

_I do love Harry enough to do this for him. God help me,... I do. _

Ron nodded his head in surrender as he pulled his wand from its holster at his side as he choked out.

"Al-Alright, H-Harry."

"Thank you, brother." Harry replied, and honestly meant it.

"I love you, Harry." Ron said, as he leveled his wand between Harry's eyes.

McGonagal and the others recoiled in revulsion from behind the confining shield. They could do nothing but watch the inevitable horror unfold before them.

"I love you too, Ron." Harry said as a tear tracked down his cheek and he breathed a final, "Good-bye."

"_Aveda Ke.._"Ron began but never finished as a hand snaked out from behind Harry's shoulder and slapped his wand from his grasp, sending it spinning across the floor.

"NO!" Hermione hissed as she stepped between Harry and her boyfriend, placing a restraining hand on both their chests, but kept her defiant brown eyes fixed on Harry's pleading green ones.

Harry slumped to the floor on his knees and whispered a last desperate plea of, "Please..."

Ron slumped against Hermione's hand, sobbing. His face was a mixture of sympathy for his friend and revulsion over what he had almost done.

Hermione pressed a soft kiss to Ron's temple and whispered compassionately."It's alright, now. I understand, luv. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. He needs us, but not like this."

She turned back to Harry and found him sobbing uncontrollably on his knees with his face buried in his hands. He was the picture of abject suffering and misery. She chanced a brief look at the rest of her friends and surrogate family, as they held each other consolingly behind the glimmering golden shield.

Their faces were a mixture of terror, shock, and grateful relief as tears fell from troubled eyes.

Molly Weasley placed her hand on the shield and looked at Harry and then back to Hermione meaningfully.

Mr. Weasley was nodding his head vigorously in agreement next to her. Professor McGonagal's and Madam Pomfrey's faces mirrored intense gratitude for her timely arrival as they held each other weeping in relief.

Bill and Fleur were clutching each other desperately as they looked down with kind and regretful eyes on Harry's slumped form.

The rest of the brothers faces all echoed the same sentiments; intense love , longing and. regret.

Hermione called over her shoulder to Harry and asked kindly, but firmly,

"Harry, lower your shield please?"

She heard him rise slowly to his feet and sigh a heavy, "No."

She spun on her heal just in time to see him pass thru the office door, brushing away Ron's hands as they reached out for him. He snarled back over his retreating form. "I want peace, not pity!"

She raced to the doorway calling his name, but the hallway filled with light and moments later the sound of thunder rolled away in the distance. His conjured shield vanished from existence.

"WHY!" She screamed as she rounded on the rest of her surrogate family in rage. "Why couldn't you just love him? He's given you so much. He's sacrificed everything for this family- **EVERYTHING!**" she shrieked out sending a shockwave rumbling through the room as she lost temporary control of her magic. Frightened by her loss of control, she reined in her emotions and continued:

"He's done all of that and more, asking nothing for himself, except maybe for the chance to love Ginny. He may have wanted it for himself, but he never asked for your love. He's alone in the world. There's no one,.. no one for him that he trusts now. He didn't come here seeking it, but whether he knows it or not, he gave you a chance here today,... and you spurned him. Only Ron,... only Ron, of all of us," she said proudly as she beamed a smile gratefully to her boyfriend and continued, "only Ron loved him enough to at least try and end his suffering. I'm sure he would have asked me if he thought I could do it, but he knows that I can't. Only Ron, of all of you, has that kind of courage. I love Ron, but I love Harry just as much, and I can't let him,... I can't let either of them go, and I **won't**!." she finished off with deadly certainty.

"Hermione, Ron, I think I can speak for all of us?" Mr. Weasley began as he passed his eyes over his wife and gathered children.

All of them vigorously nodded their approval, even Bill.

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say, we were wrong; terribly, terribly wrong, and I'm deeply ashamed because of it. The best part of this family just walked out that door without a backward glance and it rocks me to the core to think that we may never see him again? That we may never get the chance to tell him how much we love him,… and miss him.." Mr. Weasley choked off his words, overcome by his own regret and sorrow.

"And want him." Molly Weasley finished tearfully for her husband as she pulled him into her arms.

"H-How, how do we get him back? How can we make this right?" she fretfully asked the room from her husband's trembling shoulder.

McGonagal confirmed her worst fears, answering, "You may never get the chance again. Harry has already informed me that he was going to be leaving after the World Cup."

"Leaving? He's right at the top of his game. He can't quit now, not when..?" Ron's words drifted off as a lump formed in his throat. He began to suspect just why Harry had intended to leave.

McGonagal confirmed his fears. "That's right, Ronald. He's leaving because of you. You're making the team put a whole new spin on things for him. Then, he was afraid, and rightfully so, that you all were on to him. That it would only be a matter of time before you discovered Alan Brandt's true identity. Besides, he wanted you to have your chance, Ron. He said you'd make a great quidditch player and he didn't want to ruin that for you. Having him around would only cause 'complications', yes,... I believe that is what he called it, and so, judging by today's events, he appears quite accurate in his assumptions."

Ron's face crumpled into his hands and he began sobbing anew. Hermione pulled him into her comforting embrace. She looked over Ron's shoulder and asked with growing dread. "Where is he going?"

McGonagal hesitated briefly before responding hollowly. "Abroad. He said that he was going to go traveling abroad. That he was finished with the wizarding world. I took it to mean one of two things; Harry's either going to return to the simplicity of muggle life,... or..?"

"Or what?" Molly asked fretfully.

McGonagal's mouth worked but no words were forth coming.

Madam Pomfrey squeezed her hand and finished the thought for her. "Or, he's going away to die..."

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously and her voice was cold and sharp as she responded. "Minerva, I'm going to need to borrow Harry's memories for a bit- all of them."

"H-He said to destroy them?" McGonagal defended.

"Yes, but he didn't say when, now did he?"


	25. Chapter 25: Plans Go Awry

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Plans Go Awry**

_**The Daily Prophet **_

_**Malfoy Escapes !**_

_In a disturbing turn of events, the Ministry of Magic had reluctantly admitted that Draco Malfoy, suspected former Death Eater and son of the notorious, Lucius Malfoy, has escaped from secure detention while convalescing at St. Mungo's, late last night._

_A Healer from St. Mungo's, (speaking under terms of anonymity), claims that Malfoy incapacitated two ministry aurors and a nurse, with his bare hands, in making his escape. The public should be warned that Draco Malfoy, though wand-less, is considered highly dangerous and the ministry asks that all citizens should contact aurors immediately if he is sited. _

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO APPREHEND THIS CRIMINAL ON YOUR OWN AS HE IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS!

"Damn it all to hell!" Harry bellowed as he crumpled up the newspaper in absolute disgust. "I all but gift wrapped the bastard, and the damn ministry still mucked it up." he breathed out in frustration. The fact that his team was leaving for Romania this evening was of little consolation. It was a sure bet that Morvis now knew who he was dealing with and Harry or should he say, Alan Brandt and the Cannons were walking right into the lion's den by going to Romania, where Morvis and his lackeys were lying in wait.

He decided he'd approach the coach about contacting the Romanian Ministry.

_Surely Hadley Dobbs had a few connections. They we're going to need all the security they could get if Morvis decides to show his hand. The damn Cup is in three days! _

He caught up with Coach Reeve's in the hallway leading to the international floo connection.

"Hey, Skipper. Can I have a word?"

"Oh- hey, Alan. Sure, what's on your mind?".

Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he struggled with how to frame his concerns. "I was wondering if it would be possible to get in to see Mr. Dobbs. I'm a little concerned about the security for the Cup match."

"More fan fallout from your concert, eh? Afraid your adoring fans are gonna storm the field and tear your clothes off are you?" the coach chided. "Abby's been in a right whirl ever since you danced with her at the Ball." Reeves finished in good humor.

Harry waved him off irritably. "No, it's nothing like that . I'm more concerned about those red cloaked wankers I've been reading about. They've been operating a lot around Romania. I was thinking that they may try and pull something at the Cup." He finished in genuine concern.

Coach Reeve's eyes widened for a moment before he shook off his initial response and replied airily.

"You've got nothing to worry about my boy. The Romanian and British Ministries will both have a contingent of Aurors present. The place will be swarming with security.

Harry visibly relaxed at this information but it was short lived when Reeve's added. "Besides, everyone attending will have to check their wand at the gate. The Romanian Ministry insisted on this as an added precaution. They're not taking any chances of letting in a bad element. I heard a lot of magic folk aren't even bothering to bring their wands along. Most folks are just _port keying _or using the _floo_ and _apparition_ points at the stadium, and you don't need wands for that. The aurors won't have anyone to worry about since no one will even have a wand. They'll probably get to skive off and watch the match like everybody else. …Hey, Alan, you okay? You look a little green around the gills, boy."

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, coach. I guess I should've eaten something this morning.I just felt a little dizzy there for a sec, I'm fine now." Harry reassured the man and put on a brave face though his insides were roiling in dread anticipation.

"Well, alright then. Remember we're _port keying_ to Romania in twenty minutes so gather your gear. We don't want to leave for the cup without our star seeker, now do we?"

"Ah, sure coach. I'll be there. See you in twenty."

Satisfied, the coach left him and had just vacated the hallway when Harry grabbed a nearby railing to steady himself.

_Christ sake! No wands? Everyone in that stadium will be sitting in a gigantic death trap. _He thought worriedly.

Deciding quickly on a course of action he flew down the hall to an empty office and with a quick

"_Alhomera_", he unlocked the door and stepped inside the vacant office and relocked the door behind himself. He rifled thru the desk till he found a spare bit of parchment. He grabbed a quill and wrote out a hasty note. With hope that his message would not fall on deaf ears, he called softly, "Fawkes".

Moments passed before the faint sound of a trilling melody reached his ears. A bust of ruby fire heralded the Phoenix's arrival.

"Fawkes, thank God!" He rasped in relief. "I need you to do me a big favor. I need you to take this note to the Weasley's at the Burrow. Can you do that for me?"

The Phoenix bobbed his head and trilled agreeably, setting Harry's heart at ease. Harry passed the note he'd composed to Fawkes and stammered a hasty, "Thanks, Fawkes I appreciate it."

The phoenix leapt up to his shoulder and nuzzled his neck affectionately before he winged into the air and with a flash of ruby fire, he was gone. With a temporary sigh of relief, Harry made his way worriedly to collect his gear bag and one other 'necessary' item, before he joined his teammates at the _port key _area.

**Eastern Romania**

Alexander Morvis starred into the emerald fire of his urgent floo call with a quirk of a smile forming at the corners of his cruel visage.

"Did you hear me Morvis?" Malfoy asked sharply. "I said the Alan Brandt; the seeker for the Chudley Cannons is the mage you've been... searching..." Malfoy's words died out as listened in shock to the roaring laughter echoing back at him thru the fireplace grate.

"Oh, Ha-Ha-Ha, It's just too perfect!' Morvis intoned gleefully. "The very enemy we've been seeking has thoughtfully made himself available at the very event that we've targeted for destruction. We're going to give the magical world a night it will never forget ,and wipe out our sole opposition all in one swoop. It's perfect, absolutely perfect!"

**The Burrow**

The Burrow had been a hive of activity in recent days as the entire family, save one, had been preparing for the event of a lifetime, The World Quidditch Cup. Ginny Weasley had thankfully been absent from the family's plans concerning the Cup, having, by Merlin's grace, been sequestered at the Harpies facilities for a rookie training camp. She was due back this afternoon and was planning to attend the Quidditch Cup with the rest of her family this weekend.

It was with growing trepidation that Hermione Granger prepared herself for the last and most crucial part of their plan- Ginny. The youngest Weasley was at the forefront of her mind as she went over finalizing their plans for the Cup outing with the rest of the Weasley family, Fleur Delacour, Minerva McGonagal and a few other'_well placed individuals_', Hermione thought smugly to herself.

"George, do you and Fred have the, er, 'special fireworks' prepared?" she asked guardedly. The twins were born pranksters, but when the chips were down they always rose famously to the occasion. Still, one could never be entirely certain that the twins wouldn't add their own rather unique touch to even the most stringent of plans.

"Piece 'o cake, 'Mione." Fred chimed in with a roguish grin. "My partner and I we're sure to put in the lowest bid for the Cups celebratory firework display. It was a bit of a pinch, but well worth."

"Fine,… and stop calling me, 'Mione." she reprimanded .

She hated people calling her 'Mione _, _well, except maybe Ron, but that was more for times of intimacy.

_Concentrate, Hermione! _She admonished herself.

"Is Lee Jordan on board as well?"

"Totally." this time George answered before his twin could steal the limelight. "We only had to show him some of the pictures you provided us and once he pulled his jaw off the floor, he pledged his undying loyalty to the campaign. Nice bit of charm work, by the by." George added wistfully with a touch of grudging respect.

"Thank you, or should I say, piece 'o cake, Forge." she smirked.

She turned a serious eye on Mr. Weasley. She did not envy him his part in their plans and knew that she was placing him in a very precarious situation.

"The Ministry?" was all she asked grimly.

Mr. Weasley let his gaze drift around the table pausing briefly over each of his children and extended family. As with all things involving the Ministry, the news was both more and less than what they'd hoped. He sighed audibly and began.

"To acknowledge that Minister Bones was shocked by our information, would be the understatement of the century. The pictures in and of themselves were not enough to convince her of Harry's continued existence, so I accompanied her to Hogwarts and both she and the commander of the Auror Division, Kingsley Shacklebolt, viewed Harry's memories of the final battle and his re-emergence into the wizarding world, as Alan Brandt." At this point Mr. Weasley paused, unsure of how to continue.

"What is her official stance?" Hermione asked bluntly.

Mr. Weasley was hesitant to answer and his eyes drifted to his wife, who nodded encouragingly for him to continue. He chose to delay the inevitable.

"Before I answer that question in its entirety, let me first impart this to all of you. Madam Bones is willing to let Harry continue to live in anonymity as Alan Brandt, or any other identity he may chose for himself. She has assured me that he has the option of re-establishing himself as Harry Potter, with the offer of joining the ranks of the '_unspeakables'_. As an _Unspeakable_, he could at least maintain some semblance of privacy; as the press and even aurors, are forbidden from questioning an _unspeakable_."

Immediate outbursts of denial sounded from those gathered at the table. Once you were inducted into the _unspeakables, _there was no going back.

"Listen! Listen to me." Arthur Weasley held up his hands and pleaded for their attention before continuing. "If we do this, if we expose Harry to the public sector, there's no going back...**ever! **Reporters will be clamoring for interviews. Photographers will dog his every footstep. People will hound him for autographs, special appearances endorsements and so on. Every single witch in the country will set their sights on him. The rest of the public, those less brazen amongst us, will whisper and point knowingly at him everywhere he goes. I am, of course, describing all of the things that Harry Potter hated most about being Harry Potter. We're gambling everything that we love about Harry Potter, at the cost of his freedom. We may reach his heart only to find that it has turned against us, and rightfully so. We may very well accomplish the very thing that we are trying to avoid, the boy's destruction."

The room went silent. All eyes were lowered to the tabletop as each contemplated Mr. Weasley's warning .Oddly it wasn't Hermione, but Ron whose words steeled their resolve. Ron raised his blue eyes to look at the others. Tears were already welling at the corners of his eyes as he hatefully recalled his last parting with the man they we're all plotting for, or, against,... considering your point of view?

"No choice, really. He may hate us, sure. He'll probably never speak to us again, okay. But he'll be alive. Alive damn it! You were all there, but you didn't see his face, you weren't looking into his eyes when he begged me to finish him. He's not bluffing, he wants to die. He's in horrific pain and all the time. You all heard what Madam Pomfrey said, it's like a white hot knife is twisting inside him all the time. That bastard Voldemort, has got a hold on Harry and he won't let go. Either the wounds he's suffered will kill him outright, or Voldemort will take him over, and do God knows what damage, before Harry finally succumbs, if he succumbs. But, it doesn't end there does it, nooo." Ron sneered the 'no' disdainfully before continuing.

"After everything he's gone through? After all the endless sacrifices; he won't even be allowed to go on and be with his parents and Sirius. Voldemort has fixed it so Harry won't even have the peace afforded the dead. I don't know about you lot, but I saw it in his eyes. Harry's in absolute agony. Can you imagine? Can you even begin to imagine how much pain Harry would have to be in to actually outright- admit it?"

Faces paled around the table and several of those gathered began to weep softly as Ron pressed his point home.

"I don't care if he has to sleep with Rita Skeeter or bare Dolores Umbridge's unholy offspring, so long as he's alive to do it. Harry needs to find the power within him, that only he is capable of conjuring, if he is to be able to cure himself and rid his soul of Voldemort's taint. I don't pretend to know everything, that's 'Mione's department," he paused whilst a few nervous chuckles of agreement sounded from around the room.

"I do know this though,. it has to be Harry, not Alan Brandt. Only Harry Potter has the power to save Harry Potter. If that means exposing him to the world, then so be it. Besides," Ron shrugged in afterthought, "between quidditch and that show he put on at the Ministerial Ball the other night, He's practically as famous as Alan Brandt as he ever was as Harry Potter."

A few chuckles of agreement sounded from around the room.

"I heard the Cannons Public Relations Department was swamped with offers of betrothal for the mysterious and talented Alan Brandt." Fred informed them with a roguish grin.

"Most of the offers were from lonely young witches and a few wizards as well, according to Lee Jordan." George put in.

"Don't forget the knickers, Forge. I heard that Chudley is the proud recipient of more witch's undergarments than Madam Malkin's Newlywed Line.

"You don't say, Gred? I heard that dozens of lucrative offers for singing contracts and personal appearances by Mr. Brandt were pouring in from around the continent. Can you imagine what would happen if the public knew that it was actually Harry Potter they were clamoring for?"

"So many witches…" Fred began.

"So little time…" his twin echoed before he looked pleadingly at his parents and feigned desperately.

"Please don't do it? Don't curse Harry to a life of endless pleasure!"

Mr. Weasley covered his mouth with his hand and turned his eyes to the ceiling as he seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh, whilst his wife rounded scathingly on her twin sons. As ridiculous as her word's sounded to the ear, every word of it was true where Harry was concerned.

"You two.." Mrs. Weasley breathed angrily. "You know he doesn't want that. He's never wanted to draw attention to himself. So why he ever allied himself with a pair of attention seeking, world class prats like the two of you, I'll never know?"

"Hey" George responded indignantly as he and his twin responded as one.

"We resemble that comment."

"You most certainly do." she hissed. "Harry, I 'm proud to say, does not. He's always been a sweet, shy, loving boy. He's never asked or even expected anything for himself, never. The only thing he's ever wanted was peace. Peace and...?"

"Ginny" Ron finished for his mother. "He never asked for her love. He never dared to, he couldn't. He wouldn't risk her, not with Voldemort's shadow hanging over him. The bastard found out how Harry felt anyway. He found out and used the one thing that Harry wanted most in the whole world, Ginny, and he used her to draw Harry out. Despite that oath he made to you, Bill." Ron intoned angrily, drawing his brother's attention.

"You might be my eldest brother and I respect you Bill, but you had no right in speaking for the rest of us when you demanded that Harry never have anything to do with Ginny again. If he honors that promise, and everyone in this room knows that Harry always keeps his promises, then you've condemned the both of them. I-I don't think either will be able to survive indefinitely without the other. Their feelings for each other are deeper than any of you can possibly imagine."

"H- He loves her, then?" Bill asked hollowly.

"LOVES HER? Merlin, Bill, haven't you been paying attention? Yes, Harry loves her... He..." Ron lost his voice in frustration as he tried to make the depth of Harry's feelings known to the rest of his family.

"He adores her." Hermione finished for Ron. "He'd do anything for her and he already has. People say they'd give their life for someone they love. They say that all the time. Harry is the one person I know who really has, and more times than I can count. At twelve years old, he faced and defeated Tom Riddle and a Basilisk, to save Ginny's life. Who does that? Who amongst us can even imagine doing something like that, and at the age of twelve? During our fifth year at the battle in the Ministry, when Harry lost Sirius, Ginny fell during that battle and I watched as Harry stepped over her and took curse after curse that was meant for her. He fought off all those Death Eaters. He held them at bay until Ron and I could pull her to safety. I never told anyone this, I'm not even sure I believe it myself, but when Ginny fell and Harry stepped over her. I could swear I saw …?"

"Harry took the _killing curse _for her. Not once, but twice." a pale Ron solemnly intoned.

"R-Ron, you saw it too?" Hermione gasped in shock.

"I saw it. I thought I was mental at the time, what with those brains I had latched on me. At least that's what I tried to tell myself, but I knew. In my heart I knew that he actually did it."

The rest of those gathered around him stared at Ron with looks of utter disbelief on their faces.

"W- why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked with a sniffle.

"What would I say? It's like you said, Hermione, who does something like that? What he did, he did for Ginny. I don't know if he could do it for any of the rest of us and survive, but I know he'd try. I was awed by him; both humbled and proud. Here was a man that would brave anything, even death, for my little sister, and he calls himself my friend. He makes me ashamed that I even begin to think I know what friendship is. We all were so worried about protecting ourselves that we turned our back on the better part of us. Without people like Harry to emulate, how can we ever hope to be more than what we are?"

"Wow." Fred responded without the slightest hint at humor.

"Since when did you become so deep, little bro? George asked awestruck.

Hermione beamed at Ron, but knew the credit for Ron's insight was inspired by their best friend.

"You're right about one thing, Ron, I am ashamed." Bill stated in remorse. Part of me said the things I did because I was afraid for Ginny. I wanted to protect her. Now, I realize that I was stupidly trying to protect her from the one person that could protect her as no one else ever could or would, even me, her own brother. I'd be lying if I said that I would storm Voldemort's lair the way he did. It was hopeless, beyond insane, but he went anyway, and he saved her. God, forgive me for my stupidity? He saved her at the cost of his own soul. He didn't know it at the time, but even if he did know the risk, he would've gone anyway. I know that now. You all saw it in the pensieve. The Death Eaters were closing in and Harry was oblivious to them as he held Ginny in his arms. You all saw it in his eyes. He would have risked anything for her. Then, when he came to McGonagal's office and I spurned him again, only this time I did it out of pride, but lied to myself and convinced myself that I was doing it to protect my family. I have to admit it, I was even a little jealous too. Humbled, Ron? Humbled doesn't begin to express how I feel when I think about Harry."

"Jealous?" Why on earth would you be jealous of Harry, Bill? He has talents, yes, but they come at a terrible cost. Surely, none of us would relish having to face the things that Harry's faced." his mother admonished.

" I-I'm not jealous of H-Harry so much as I'm jealous of how you two are when you're together, mum." Bill stammered ashamedly.

Molly Weasley's eyes went wide in sudden concern as she glanced around the table at the rest of her sons.

"Please tell me that you all don't think that I love you any less than I do Harry? I'll admit I may have doted on him a bit, but lord knows the boy could stand a little mothering. It's one of the many things he never had that I could at least offer. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that I love you any less because I don't, I never have." Mrs. Weasley said in heartfelt honesty.

"It's not that, mum. It's not you. It's Harry." Fred began to explain.

"Harry? I don't understand? How could Harry make you feel jealous regarding me?" his mother asked skeptically.

Percy Weasley cleared his throat and the rest of his brothers gratefully nodded their approval to let him try and explain to their mother.

"I think what my brothers, and I must admit that I also feel it,... what we're trying to say is that it's more of how Harry acts around you that makes us feel jealous or more properly, ashamed." Percy was able to get this out before his cheeks colored.

"But, but he won't even come near me?" Molly defended in near hysterics. "I wanted so badly to hold him. To take him in my arms, but he wouldn't even come near me. He shied away from me or ignored me altogether. How on earth could that make you feel jealous or ashamed?"

"Exactly mother." Percy said with a note of triumph. He explained further. "He wouldn't let you come near him. Of all of us, he only let Hermione embrace him, albeit briefly, and I'm inclined to think it's partially because she caught him off guard and gave him no avenue of escape. He was drawn to Ginny. You could see him struggling not to go to her. He might have, if Bill hadn't warned him off, but that's beside the point. He talked to most of us. Though he said very little, he always looked us right in the eye. He fought some of us, and again he still looked us in the eye. Even when we were trying to hurt him, I never got the impression that he really wanted to return the favor. Well, maybe, except for Bill?"

"Hey!" Bill complained.

Percy continued without registering having heard his brother's indignant interruption. "He was kind and obviously affectionate toward the headmistress and Madam Pomfrey."

This elicited a faint blush from each of the mature witches present.

"Everyone of us had some form of contact with Harry, even if it was no more than simple acknowledgement. All of us that is, except you mother." Percy finished with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

"He avoided mum like she had the Dragon Pox." George admitted.

"Dragon Pox doesn't cover it. When mum reached out for him when he passed her in McGonagal's office, he jumped like he was hit with a _stinging hex._"Fred agreed.

"When you nearly nipped him, he was shuddering like a ghost passed thru him." Charlie threw in good naturedly.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked to each of her son's cryptic explanations. She was rapidly losing her patience.

That was before Bill began to put things in perspective for her.

"You could see it in his eyes whenever you got near him, mum." her eldest confirmed.

"What, what could you see?" she asked fearfully. She both longed for and dreaded understanding where they we're all going with this.

"Love, Mother." Percy answered her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You could see it in his eyes. He was that way with Hermione too, albeit differently, but just as strong."

Hermione blushed furiously in understanding as Ron quirked an amused eyebrow in her direction.

"Undoubtedly he would have shown much the same with Ginny, but it's different, much different with you." Percy continued after many of his siblings mumbled their agreement. "Harry looks at you in a way that makes the rest of us a bit ashamed, jealous even. He looks at you the way the rest of us should. He looks at you with the same love and affection that a son feels and should show, but so often doesn't, for his own mother."

Molly Weasley looked wild eyed from one of her son's to the next as each of them nodded their heads in agreement with Percy's revelation. Even Arthur smiled brightly at her and nodded his head. Though she wanted to believe what they we're saying was true, she was having trouble accepting it in her heart. She wanted to desperately, but…

"But, if that's how he truly feels than why wouldn't he come near me? He wouldn't even acknowledge me so much as to say 'hello'." Mrs. Weasley began weeping dejectedly.

"Mother," Percy said in his most haughty tone. ."haven't you been listening? As far as Harry's concerned, you're his mother. Lily Potter may have given birth to him, but as far as Harry's concerned, right here, right now, you're his mother"

"B-But he wouldn't even l-let me h-hold him?" she choked out pitifully.

"He wouldn't let you near him because you're his Achilles' heel, mum." Bill said proudly.

"It iz true." Fleur added. "I could senze et. I zink that he iz afraid that he vill break down if he lets you get a hold of em, Molly. I could feel how bad he wanted to come to you, but he would not. I don't zink he would have been able to break away from us if he did zo. He loves you so much zat it makes em both strong,... and weak. Zat is why ze boys are feeling a bit azhamed, his love for you iz az obvious az they would wish to show, but zay are learning and growing,..some of zem anyway." this she finished with a glare in the twin's direction.

Molly Weasley broke down sobbing wretchedly. Surprisingly to most, but not Fleur, was the fact that the twins we're the first by their mother's side to comfort her.

As fate would have it, this was the moment that the trilling of Phoenix song filled the Burrow. A burst of red flame heralded Fawkes timely arrival.

Fawkes looked curiously at the gathered family and surprisingly, to Minerva McGonagal, the phoenix leapt past her outstretched hand and settled in front of a distraught, but startled Molly Weasley.

The phoenix trilled softly, comfortingly to the Weasley matriarch before holding out his leg to present the note he carried.

"F-For me?" She asked hopefully thru her tears.

The Phoenix bobbed his head in affirmation.

Molly Weasley reached out a trembling hand in hopeful anticipation. She opened the note and read the words that filled her with both love and heart wrenching dread.

_Molly,_

_I'm writing this note in the hopes that Fawkes finds you all well and with my profound intention that you remain this way._

_I have set in motion plans to eliminate the last of Voldemort's dark mages- Alexander Morvis. Draco Malfoy's escape from custody has undoubtedly accelerated my plans a hundred fold. Draco is and has been working for Morvis, for some time. Morvis sees me,(even in anonymity, as a threat, and rightly so. His agents have been trying to learn my true identity and now with Draco's escape, he undoubtedly knows that Alan Brandt poses a threat to his schemes. _

_Thankfully, I don't think he knows my true identity, for which I am grateful as that would only put the rest of you in even more this in mind , I'm begging you all to not come to the World Cup!_

_Please, mum. I have a terrible feeling that Morvis is going to make his play at the cup match. I hope I'm wrong, but I have a terrible feeling that he's plotting something big, and with the match being set up the way it is,… the whole place is a death trap!_

_The vulnerability of so many unsuspecting magic folk, coupled with my presence and I don't think he'll be able to resist the attempt. He's crazy mum! He doesn't have Voldemort's raw power, but he's twice as power hungry and arrogant._

_Please mum, I'm begging you all not to come. If any of you care anything for me at all, than please. Do for me this last favor and keep yourselves safe. If I'm wrong about this, I apologize profoundly, especially to you Ron, _

_I know how badly you want Chudley to win. I'll promise to do my best to catchthe snitch and make sure that you get it, as my parting gift to you. I'm terribly sorry and ashamed of myself for asking of you what I did ,Ron. I hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me. Win or lose, this is the last you'll be hearing from me as I've decided to move on to other interests._

_Hermione, your intelligence is second only to your love. Give it all to Ron, he's as worthy of it as you are of his._

_Tell Bill and the others that there are no hard feelings and one day I hope they feel the same. Rest assured that I will keep my promise and not bring further hardship into your lives._

_Mr. Weasley, I know that I don't have any right to ask anything of you, but, could you please see if the ministry could add additional emergency apparation points and portkey exits within the Cup stadium. The cost of such, I will gladly donate from my playoffs salary, and will leave notice for such at the Cannons front office._

_I'm terribly sorry about everything mu- Mrs. Weasley and hope that you can one day find it in your heart to forgive stay clear of the Cup and be safe. If the worst happens I'll do everything I can to protect as many as I can, just please stay clear of this and I promise I won't ever trouble you all, ever again._

_With all my love and sincerest apologies,_

_Harry_

Molly finished_ the_ letter just as she fainted into her twin son's arms. Her last horrified thought that; _he was asking their forgiveness, _ran ironically thru her mind.


	26. Chapter 26: A Champion Falls

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: A Champion Falls**

**The World Cup**

"_Hello, everyone at home in the wizarding world, this is your host, Lee Jordan of the Wizarding Wireless Network. We're broadcasting live from the World Cup finals in Romania. Tonight is sure to prove to be an unforgettable evening for everyone in attendance, and for those of you at home in our listening audience around the world. Yes folks, I think I can honestly say that tonight is going be an event of truly epic proportions. Not only is tonight the historic first time appearance of England's own Chudley Cannons at the finals, but it coincidently falls on the national holiday of the wizarding world's greatest champion, Harry Potter. It's the thirty-first of July, ladies and gentleman. I'm sure that most of our listeners at home will recognize this as the date of Harry Potter's birthday, declared an international holiday after his fall in battle, having first saved the world from the evil of the nefarious Lord Voldemort. Yes folks, it seems only fitting that..."_

Alan Brandt paced the access tunnel to the stadium nervously. His mind played over a hundred possible scenarios for tonight's match, each less appealing and more fraught with peril than the next.

_Bloody Voldemort and his bloody Death Eater lackeys, _he thought angrily_. If it hadn't been for that cursed prophesy, I wouldn't be in this mess and could be enjoying the game of my life. I could still be with Ginny and the rest of my friends._

His dark musings were interrupted by the elated roars of the stadium's audience. At first, he could have sworn that he heard screams of terror coming from the crowd. Harry/Alan had almost bolted out of the tunnel early- _his saving people thing having kicked into over drive_.

Coach Reeves had come running down the tunnel and allayed his fears by informing the team that the fans were caught up in an intense pre-game show.

The stadium sported a two hundred foot magical screen that gave fans an up close view of the action within the pitch. Coach Reeves had explained that they were currently broadcasting highlights from this year's quidditch season. Some of the scenes being displayed were of spectacular crashes that happened during the season. He asked the rest of the team to file out onto the pitch for pre- game introductions, but he held Alan back from the rest as they departed.

The coach had the strangest calculating look on his face when he's stopped Alan in the tunnel.

"A-Alan," he stammered, oddly nervous around him. "I want you to hold back from the rest and wait for my signal before you enter the pitch, okay?"

"Er, sure skipper. What's up?"

"The Ministry asked if you could be introduced last. I think they've got some special award or something planned for you. Maybe you made the league MVP, or Rookie of the Year honors at the least. I can't say for sure, the whole things very "hush-hush". They want it to be a surprise. You know, give the fans a thrill and all that."

"Award? I don't want any award. I just want to play. Do we have to do this? Can't we just start the game already?" Alan/Harry's apprehension level was rising with every minute he'd had to wait. The longer they delayed the game, the more opportunity they gave Morvis and his goon squad to cause trouble.

"Aw, don't be like that, Alan. Come on, you know the kids love that sort of thing. Savor the experience, kid. Most players go their whole career and never get a chance to play in the cup." the coach consoled cheerily.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. How much longer is it gonna be, coach?"

"Not long. They said that when you heard the sound of fireworks going off, then you should fly out onto the pitch. Got it?"

" Fireworks, right." Harry confirmed.

"Just one more thing, A-Alan?" the coach asked sheepishly as he held out his hand and alan/Harry shook it.

"I just want to say how honored I am to know you. My whole family and I are very grateful for everything you've done." he said with a strange reverence that surprised Harry/Alan.

Before he could reply, Coach Reeves turned on his heel and strode out of the entrance tunnel without a backward glance. Harry could feel a hollow sense of trepidation forming in the pit of his stomach. It felt almost like he was being set up. Like...?

The sound of fireworks exploded outside and Harry abandoned his previous thought to mount his broom.

_Finally_, he thought in exasperation as he flew toward the opening of the stadium tunnel.

_Strange, it almost sounds like they're all singing outside? _

He blasted out of the tunnel into a nightmare:

The fireworks filled the sky with humongous glowing words that echoed what the crowd was singing, like some grand scale magical version of karaoke. He watched in dread apprehension at the gigantic words glowing in front of him and the crowd singing along to:

_**Happy Birthday to you!**_

_**Happy Birthday to you!**_

_**Happy Birthday,. dear Har-ry**_

_**Happy Birthday to you!**_

_How could they,.. who could possibly.? _His mind raced as he tried to puzzle out how he'd been exposed.

_Only the McGonagal, Pomfrey and the Weasleys knew. Certainly they wouldn't have.? Not on this scale, and in so short of time? No one could pull that off...except…maybe..? _

"Hermione!" he spat out venomously, arriving at the obvious answer.

Harry's eyes searched the stadium oblivious to the thundering cheers echoing around him. His team and their Romanian counter parts were lined up in the center of the pitch with what appeared to be a delegation from the English Ministry. He twisted around on his broom as he scanned the stadium for the visiting Ministry's box; searching it for a telltale bunch of redheads and a, 'too clever for her own good', bushy haired traitor!

Whilst he searched, his eyes slid across the magical jumbo screen, and what he saw made him want to retch. There, playing right in front of his face, were the scenes of his very own memories that should have been destroyed by McGonagal, as she'd promised to have done. Over and over scenes from the last battle played, followed closely by flashes from the hospital where Harry Potter's had been physically transformed and emerged back into the public sector… as Alan Brandt.

There was nothing for it, the damage was done. Harry Potter hovered in place on his broom, taking a moment to remove Alan Brandt's fake brown contact lenses, and revealing Harry Potter's famous green eyes.

_His mother's eyes. _

His face, magically displayed, flashed onto the jumbo screen as it now appeared .

The crowd erupted with wild, raucous cheers and chants of " **Har-ry!-Har-ry!-Har-ry !**"

Had they paid attention they would have seen the burning anger that was glowing within the emerald fire of those eyes as he continued to scan the crowd.

_There! _

Two thirds of the way up on the north side of the stadium in one of the VIP boxes was a gathering of familiar red heads. Harry blasted off in the direction of the traitorous he got closer, he could see the one person whom he thought he now most despised.

Harry pulled up on his broom only a foot or two in front of Hermione Granger's smirking face. The rest of the Weasley family and the crowd around them were cheering and calling out to him, but he was oblivious to their rants as he glared into the soft and, 'oh so knowing', brown eyes of his once friend and sister in all but blood.

"You did this." He hissed scathingly, his voice penetrating the quieting , but still raucus crowd noise around them. It was not a question, but an accusation.

"Of course." she answered proudly, deepening her smile.

His furious eyes bore into hers. She, for her part, just met his gaze calmly and even tilted her chin up with a look of defiance etched in her features.

"I hate you." he intoned with cold malice.

The crowd went deathly silent around them.

Her smile wavered for the barest moments before reasserting itself broadly across her face. She practically glowed as she answered rage with love.

"You don't hate me. The only person that you've ever truly hated was Voldemort. You love me. You love us, now as much as you always have, maybe even more than we love you, if that's even possible?"

"You're wrong, 'Mione. Dead wrong. I wish I'd never laid eyes on you."

The defiant, knowing look was back as she replied. "If that's truly how you feel , than why did you address me as, 'Mione? That is, after all, a rather familiar, even intimate abbreviation of my name, don't you think?"

Harry's face went ashen as her insinuation became clear.

_He had still addressed her in an affectionate way._

"Now then," She said with a look of triumph over his indecision. "If you're quite finished with you little tantrum, then go and greet your team. Follow that with seeing what Minister Bones has got to say, and then; for Merlin's sake!, win that bloody cup already so I don't have to listen to Ron's whining anymore." she said with winning grin.

"Oiy! I don't whine- Oww!" Ron barely managed a denial before her elbow made contact with his ribs.

Harry's angry scowl was replaced by a look of mild amusement. His green eyes drifted down the row of seats taking in each of the gathered family's faces:

The twins were giving him the thumbs up and shouting, "Give 'em hell, Harry!"

Charlie was next in line as he grinned out a "Are we gonna see some quidditch or what?"

Fleur was perched on Charlie's right with a brilliant smile as she said."We love you, 'Arry."

Bill was beaming next to her and added, "All of us."

Percy and his father, Mr. Weasley, were nodding their agreement with Bill and Fleur's pronouncements.

At the end of the line of warm smiling faces, was not the one face that he wanted to see the most smiling back at him , but Mrs. Weasley was at least a close second.

Molly Weasley smiled nervously at Harry as she held out trembling, hopeful arms to him, beckoning him to come to her. Harry felt his broom drift steadily toward her as if it was moving of its own accord. He came to a halt barely a meter in front of Molly Weasley and looked uncertainly, almost fearfully at her waiting arms. She cocked her head to one side and said softly.

"P-Please, Harry."

Harry's whole body began to tremble slightly and Hermione knew that Molly was breaking his resolve. As they'd so desperately hoped, Molly was reaching his heart. Her heart soared as she grabbed Ron and kissed him passionately.

_She was getting her brother back! First, Harry and eventually, Ginny, but they were all going to be together again! _She just knew it. She could feel her heart bursting with the joy of it.

Hermione pulled her lips back from Ron,(who had a glazed expression on his face), and smiled triumphantly at the rest of her own surrogate family. Each was beaming at the tender scene enfolding before them.

Though so close, it was not to be.

Harry suddenly stiffened and pulled back just as he was about to fall into Molly Weasley's waiting arms.

He pulled his broom toward her and she could see a wild apprehension in his eyes.

"Get to the emergency apparation points!" he barked in alarm.

"H-Harry,.. what?" she began, before he cut her off.

"Morvis. He's coming. I can feel it. Get the family out of here, now!"

"W-What about you?" She stammered fearfully.

"I'm going to warn Minister Bones so that she and the aurors can start evacuating everyone. Don't worry, I'll be fine." he reassured her.

At hearing those words, Hermione's blood turned cold. Harry is never, "fine".

She tried to call him back, but too late, he'd already zoomed off toward the ministerial delegation waiting at midfield

Harry landed just a few feet from the podium where Minister Bones and other dignitaries , that he could only assume were here representing the Romanian Ministry of Magic. He trotted toward the minister, calling out as he approached. "Minister Bones we have an emergency!"

The smile etched on Amelia Bones face faltered, replaced by a worried, skeptical look. "An emergency? Surely not?"

She never completed her question as Harry anxiously cut her off.

"It's Morvis and his thugs. They're approaching from the South and Southwest. There's a lot of them and they're coming fast. You need to have everyone evacuate to the emergency apparation points immediately!" he barked.

The Minister's face took on a stricken appearance as she shared a nervous look with the foreign dignitary to her immediate left.

"Ah, a-as to that?" she began nervously. "My colleagues did not think it necessary to install any extra apparition points or floo grates as they assured me that there significant auror presence could deal with any possible state of emergency, er, hostile or otherwise." Her nervous voice betrayed the sense of calm she was desperately trying to impart.

"What? Oh Bloody Hell!"

The angry retort had barely left his lips when shouts of alarm rose from the South end of the pitch.

Dark clad aurors began firing volleys of spells into the dark sky, but, as they did so, fire rained down on them from the night- **dragon fire**!

More aurors rushed forward into the fray trying to bolster the flagging ranks of their besieged comrades.

Defiant shouts soon became screams of pain and fear from the fallen and dying. Even the best trained and most powerful wizards stood little chance against dragons, and Morvis had many such creatures at his command.

"**Get Everyone You Can Out Of Here Now!" **Harry shouted angrily ina magically enhanced voice as he stormed off toward the Romanian quidditch squad.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Minister Bones called after his retreating form.

"Your Job! I'm going to protect as many of our people as I can." he called back vehemently ,over his shoulder.

"Viktor!...Viktor!" Harry shouted over the screams of the crowd as he ran toward the Romanian team.

Thankfully he could hear, in the background, the Minister's magically enhanced voice instructing citizens to make for the nearest apparation , floo and exit points.

" 'Arry, my friend. Vat iz zis?" Viktor asked alarmed waving his arm airily for emphasis. He and the rest of his team were warily watching the fledgling battle between the Ministry's overwhelmed aurors and their unseen assailants, hidden by the night dark sky. The stadium lights were acting as a distinct disadvantage as it made the aurors obviously visible targets; while their opponents remained shrouded in the night dark sky.

"We're under attack by former Death Eaters- mounted on dragons."

Viktor's face paled, but his jaw held firm. "Vat can ve do? We haff no wands"

"Remember what I did at the first task of the Tri-Wizard's Tournament?"

Harry dredged up the memory with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Dah, I see. You vant us to distract zem." Viktor caught on.

"Can you and your boys give me a bit of time, say five minutes?" Harry asked hurriedly.

The ministry aurors were holding their ground, but they couldn't last much longer, not against dragons.

"Dah, ve can do it." Viktor confirmed defiantly.

"When you see my signal, break off and make a run for it." Harry instructed.

"Vat signal?" Viktor asked incredulously.

"Don't worry." Harry assured him. "You'll know it when you see it."

Harry began to turn away, but then called back to his already retreating friend. "Oh,.. and Viktor,.. don't get dead."

Viktor smirked a reply as he and his team mounted their brooms." You either. You still haff a match to lose to me."

Before Harry could comment back, Viktor and the rest of the Romanian team kicked off and speed into the air .The shot toward the South end of the field flying in a 'V' formation.

"Banyon, McCloud , front and center." Harry barked out to his team's beaters.

The two hulking beaters trotted up to Harry and Banyon asked. "Want us to give the Romanians a hand, Alan,..er, I mean, Harry?"

"Nah, I want you and the boys to get Minister Bones and the rest of the delegates out of here. Then get your selves and your families out of this mess and don't look back, **got it**?"

The beaters shared a brief look before McCloud asked. "What are you gonna do?"

"Finish my job." Harry snarled as he turned away and ran towards midfield.

He struggled to suppress a grin upon hearing Minister Bones shocked protests as the beaters and the rest of the Chudley squad swooped down on their brooms and carried off the Ministerial delegation to safety.

Harry stopped at midfield and pulled the mokeskin bag that Hagrid had once given him as a Christmas present, from beneath his tunic. From it he withdrew his shrunken katana sword and murmured the spell that enlarged it to its former size and weight.

Oblivious to the shouts and screams from the stadium around him, occasionally drowned out by the enraged roar of a dragon, Harry whispered an incantation that caused his dull steel blade to glow a blinding white.

Harry lowered the tip of his blade to the grassy field of the pitch. He burned an intricate rune pattern into the lawn of the stadium, with his glowing blade, as he chanted an ancient rite. Despite the taint of Voldemort's presence, it felt glorious to be using his ambient magic again.

The Weasley's had managed to herd several sections of frightened spectators to apparation and floo points. Despite their and the stadium security personnel's best efforts, many thousands of people would still be trapped within the confines of the stadium when Morvis and his Crimson Riders, (as they were wont to call themselves), broke thru the Romanian Ministry's flagging defenses. As the unfortunate crowd had been required to relinquish their wands upon entry to the stadium, they would be totally defenseless when Morvis's killers set upon them.

Great balls of flame rained down into the stadium as the last of the ministry's valiant defenders fell. The screams of the injured and dying filled the warm night air. Harry had just completed the ritual he'd begun at midfield. Raising his glowing sword over his head, he began to channel his magic into the glowing blade. His sword pulsed and crackled as it filled with Harry's magical power. Sweat trickled down his face and soaked thru his quidditch robes as he strained to pour more of his energy into the blade he held poised above his head. The light from the glowing blade intensified until the entire field of the stadium was illuminated by the pulsating light. The light appeared to solidify and expand, as it rose into the air.

"My God, 'Mione! What's he doing?" Ron said in awe as he watched the pulsating sphere of energy, that Harry was generating, rise up into the air and blanket the stadium like a..

"It's a shield!" Hermione shrieked in surprise, sharing the same sense of awe that Ron was obviously feeling.

"How can he…, I mean,. how is it even possible..? Merlin's beard, **the power**!" Ron stammered out in shocked wonder.

"Oh,.. Harry. It's so beautiful." Hermione breathed out in awed disbelief.

The screams of fear ceased and only the murmurings of shocked relief drifted thru the crowd that still remained within the besieged stadium. People paused to stare in wonder at the immense shield that Harry Potter had raised to protect them as they worked slowly to the exits. The shield was unfortunately distracting, as well as, protecting them.

"Get moving to safety people." Harry's voice boomed out, startling the crowd back into action.

People began pouring toward the stadiums exits, all the while, they continued to stare skyward at the awesome display of magic that Harry had wrought in their behalf.

The Weasley family followed in the crowd's wake, though Ron and Hermione were hanging back. Each of them was reluctant to leave their friend behind.

"**You too, Ron and 'Mione!**" Harry's enhanced voice echoed moments later causing Hermione to gasp in alarm.

_He knew. He could still sense their presence, even though they were surrounded by thousands of people_. She was both comforted and humbled by this knowledge.

"No" Hermione whispered quietly to herself. She felt Ron's comforting hand slide into her own. He too would stand with her as they bore witness to what they both feared in their hearts, would be their friend's final battle.

Harry could feel himself begin to buckle beneath the strain as he pulled the last vestiges of his own ambient magic from the core of his being. He chanced to reach out a last time with his empathic feelings, wanting to reassure himself that his friends had evacuated to safety.

_Bugger it all!_He thought in angry frustration. He could sense that Hermione and Ron were still here.

"**Please,... GO!" **Harry boomed out with the last of his magical reserves, his magnificent shield collapsed as his strength finally gave out..

He sank dejectedly to his knees on the cool grass. He could sense his friend's unwillingness to abandon him.

Howls of primal triumph filled the night air as the dragons and their riders surged forward when the cursed shield, barring their path, failed!

Dragon fire and dark curses rained down on the last of the stragglers, who were still trying to depart the stadium.

Wearily, Harry pulled himself to his feet. He reached out as he'd learned with his elemental abilities, and used his empathic senses to pull on the life force of the dragons and the dark wizards that swarmed overhead.

Not once did he flinch as gouts of flame and virulent hexes sailed past him and tore great gouts into the scorched lawn of the pitch. He pulled and pulled his foes magical energies into himself. He drained and fed upon their life force as if he were some giant, insatiable vampire. He felt himself beginning to tear within from the strain of harboring so much raw power, and still, he pulled more energy into himself.

With a final scream of Herculean exertion, Harry tore himself from the flow of energy and turned his attackers own magical power against them.

The night sky darkened to pitch black as giant storm clouds formed over the stadium and the surrounding area. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head as he strained to direct the flow of immense energy that he now harbored within his fragile human form. Such power as could only be safely contained within the confines of a many a dragon's mighty frame, was now his to command.

Harry's eyes snapped open, emerald green fire blazed within.

At his command: Torrential rains poured down from the clouds overhead, extinguishing the fires wrought by the dragon's carnage. Great puffs of smoke rose into the air obstructing their attacker's vision, as lightning arced through the sky. The storm grew in intensity. Flashes of lightning filled the sky and the stadium shook with blasts of thunder.

Roars of pain and shrieks of agony filled the night air as dragons and dark wizards alike were felled by lightning strikes. A large Welch Green dragon crashed into the south wall of the stadium. A whole the size of a cart horse was burned through the dying dragon's flank, the obvious victim of a lightning strike.

Several deafening "**thwumps**" signaled the fatal ends of other dragons outside the stadium.

Harry poured out the last of his stolen energy.

A last horrific peel of red lightning struck a circling Ridgeback dead center. The dragon exploded in a shower of blood and gore that spattered the east corner of the pitch.

For the second time tonight, Harry fell to his knees panting in exhaustion.

Hermione and Ron stood mesmerized as the battle played out before them. Their hands were pressed to their ears in a vain attempt to dampen the deafening thunder that boomed continuously across the pitch.

They jumped back in shocked horror, as that last peel of red lightning struck the encroaching Ridgeback. As they regained their composure and rubbed the spots from their eyes, they became dimly aware of the fact that the stadium was now nearly deserted. Only a few brave souls, like themselves, had remained behind to witness this epic battle between light and dark.

Lee Jordan's commentary echoed across the stadium. His audience across the world listened entranced, anxiously hanging on every word from his mouth:

-_"Harry Potter is doing the unthinkable, the unimaginable. He has not only saved thousands of lives, but is standing his ground against a hoard of dragons and dark wizards. He's destroyed dozens of his enemies in the process without so much as suffering a scratch in return. He's on his knees, exhausted,…and yet he's still struggling to rise up and throw himself back into the fray _."

Hermione could faintly here the echoes of Lee Jordan's voice over the raging din of the ongoing battle. She smiled with grim delight at the realization that, thanks to Lee Jordan, the wizarding world would at least know of the sacrifices made by its greatest champion of light.

Ron's arm ghosted around her waist.

She turned and looked deeply into her love's eyes and saw they shared the same thoughts. They were proud. Oh, so very proud. They were proud of their friend, and even more so, that they could call themselves his friends.

**LONDON**

Number Twleve Grimauld place was a flurry of activity. Remus Lupin was desperately trying to floo from the premises. He was continually denied entry to the floo system as all international travel was clogged do to the influx of emergency floo travelers returning from Romania. It was to the very spot, that everyone was desperate to abandon, that Remus, and other members of the now defunct 'Order of the Phoenix', were so desperate to get to.

One member could not, and was not wanting Remus to go either-

"Think about what you're doing, Remus." Tonks begged.

"I have to go, Dora. I have to." Remus shot back as he tried and failed to make another floo connection.

"Bugger it all." he swore in frustration before adding, "The hell with it, I'll just apparate."

Nymphadora Tonks fixed her fiance with a disbelieving look.

"Apparate all the way to Romnia?" she bit out incredulously. "It would take most wizards two days and six jumps to cover that distance. I suppose a wizard like you might make it in one, but by the time you got there you'd be totally drained and of no use to Harry. That is, of course, assuming that the battle he's currently waging is going to last a day, which I highly doubt."

"But it's Harry, Dora? It's Harry! You heard Lee Jordan on the wireless. All this time, right under our very noses, he's been alive." Remus whined.

"Yes, Luv. It's Harry, Merlin bless him." she agreed before adding sorrowfully. "Harry's taking on Morvis's gang of dark wizards and a whole contingent of Dragons**,**…** Dragons!** For Circe's sake, Remus,... it's a miracle he's lasted this long? Even if by some miracle you get a floo connection, it'll take some hours to get there. Harry doesn't have hours to spare. He's got minutes at best." she finished in painfully, if truthful, resignation.

"But, it's Harry.." Remus added forlornly, hanging his head in defeat.

"I know luv. If I wasn't pregnant: I'd be trying to get there too, but it's too late, luv. You know it's too late. You heard Lee Jordan. Harry's using incredible amounts of power; power that no one has even heard of before, let alone seen. He's not only saved countless lives, but taken a toll on the opposition. Despite that; I'm afraid even Harry has his limits. He's fading, Remus. Lee Jordan said he's fallen a second time. He can't last much longer. You know he can't. There's just too many of them."

She reached out to Remus and pulled her heart broken fiancé in to a comforting embrace. Dora cooed softly into his ear as Remus Lupin sobbed out emphatically, "Forgive me, Prongs and Padfoot."

Despite their shared grief, they listened with morbid curiosity to the faint strains of Lee Jordan's voice coming from the wireless in the living room.

Jordan was trying his best to describe the impossible. Far away in the North of Scotland, Headmistress Minerva MGonagal listened as he did so.

**Hogwarts**

_-"It's absolutely unbelievable folks. The 'boy who lived', 'the champion of light'; who defeated the most evil wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort,... is fighting a hopeless battle against unthinkable odds, and he's winning. What's this...? _

_Is he insane? _

_Merlin's hairy arse! _

_You're not gonna believe this folks. I'm seeing it live and I don't believe it? Harry Potter, aka Alan Brandt, has stepped onto his broom and taken what appears to be,... yes, it's a sword. It appears that Harry Potter is going to meet the enemy on their own term?. He's taken to the air and it appears that he's going to take on the rest of Morvis's dragon riders, with only a sword for a weapon!"_

Minerva McGonagal smiled grimly as she pictured the scene in her head as Jordan described it over the wireless. Not for the first time today she wished that Albus Dumbledore were here to offer his ever valuable guidance.

One second she would pray in her heart that Harry would realize the futility of his actions, that he'd break off and retreat from this hopeless battle? The next second she'd berate herself for her own stupidity.

_Harry would break off and retreat as often as Severus Snape was want to smile, which was- never!_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the young female that sat fidgeting in front of her desk. She watched with hopeful anticipation as Ginny Weasley's eyes stole another painful glance at the pensieve that silently beckoned her, then drifted back toward the wireless where Lee Jordan was making a historic commentary on what would no doubt prove to be, the last battle of the wizarding world's greatest champion of the light.

"You need only ask and I will gladly accompany you back into the memories contained within the pensieve, Miss Weasley?" she offered kindly.

"W-What will I-I find there?" Ginny asked fearfully. Peering up at McGonagal uncertainly, from beneath a curtain of auburn locks.

The headmistress smiled shrewdly and responded. "The answers to a great many, as yet unknown, questions, I'd wager."

The wireless blared.-

"_I can't really see what's going on as the fighting is now taking place higher than what the stadium's lights can reach", _Lee Jordan's voice called out_, -" but as you can hear at home, Harry Potter is really taking it to his enemies._

The howls of enraged dragons and the screams of the dead and dying filled the crackling air of the wireless.

"_Merlin's balls ! Look out!" _

_**Whumphhh! **_

The sound of wood and stone shattering crackled ominously over the wireless.

"_I don't believe it!" _LeeJordan's astounded voice returned over the air.

"_**I simply don't believe**__**it! **_

_A headless dragon just crashed into the west wall of the stadium." _he clarified.

"_Aiyeee!" _A descending scream echoed ominously over the static of the wireless.

_-"It seems the dragon's former rider must have lost his battle with gravit,y as well as his mount." _Jordan's voice explained in dark mirth.

Ginny stared wild eyed at the wireless as Lee Jordan continued to describe the destruction that reigned down around him.

"Even if I finish looking thru those memories, will it make a difference? Could it still save him?" Ginny whispered faintly.

"No. No,... I fear it's too late for that." McGonagal sighed regretfully.

"Then why bother?" Ginny responded dryly. Her show of indifference was a sham to salvage her feeling from her own breaking heart and the headmistress knew it.

McGongal's eyes narrowed and her voice took on a hard edge as she replied. "If you even need to ask that question, then there's no point in my bothering to answer it. I suggest you use my hearth and floo home. You're family should have returned there by now. Good evening, Miss Weasley." McGonagal said in dismissal, and pivoted her chair to face away from Ginny's cowering form.

Ginny hesitantly stood and approached the hearth, taking a handful of floo powder from the floo pot. She was about to throw it into the fire when she turned back toward McGonagal and stammered." P-Professor I_I…"

"You cannot save him Miss Weasley, not now, but you could've at least saved yourself. It may prove some small consolation, in the face of what is, but at the very least it may have given Harry some measure of peace. A shame we'll never know one way or the other? Good Evening, Miss. Weasley."

Ginny cringed back and entered the floo. Dejectedly she called out "The Burrow," and spun away.

"A Gryffindor indeed!" McGonagal huffed irritably to herself. "Why couldn't the boy have found himself some nice loyal Hufflepuff to fall in love with. Even Slytherin's show more backbone." she spat out, disgustedly.

The wireless crackled;

-_"I'm... afraid.. this.. is... it.. _" Jordan's voice began hesitantly.

"_Potter is slumped over his broom and is trailing fire. He's all but falling from the sky and a large Ladvian Long Snout is bearing down on him. If the crash doesn't kill him the Long Snout most surely will. I'm afraid that…_

_-__**What's this**__? Is it? Yes,.. it's __**Viktor Krum**__! The Romanian seeker is pelting toward Potter's falling form and.., __**yes, he's got him**__! _

_Viktor Krum has just literally snatched Harry Potter from the jaws of death. He.. _

_**-Look Out! **__"_

**Romania**

Harry Potter clawed at the scorched earth and pulled himself up onto his knees. His left side felt like it was on fire and his head was throbbing, fit to bust. He shook the stars from his eyes and struggled to make sense of his disjointed thoughts.

_I remember hacking off the head off of the Ridgeback, that some nasty little Death Eater wannabe was riding _He organized his thoughts, remembering…_. _

_-The bastard sorcerer was actually able to keep himself aloft for a few minutes by casting repeated levitation charms on himself. No doubt his desperate conjuring was the result of finding himself unable to port key to safety. At least the anti- apparation wards around the stadium are good for something. _Harry thought with grim satisfaction_. _

_What else..?. What am I forgetting?... The Long Snout... it hit me with a blast on my left flank. I lost control of my broom. I was falling and... _

"**Viktor?" **His friend's name tore from his throat in dread panic.

Harry's eyes scanned the pitch around him before settling on a crumpled form, some dozen feet to his right.

"Viktor?" Harry rasped fearfully.

Harry crawled painfully to his fallen friend.

Viktor's right arm hung in tatters and great gouges of flesh were rent from that side of his body.

_The Long Snout must have raked him in passing._ Harry thought bitterly. He fought down the bile rising in his throat with morbid trepidation he moved toward his mortally wounded friend. A sudden gasp from Viktor's direction, lent him courage.

"Viktor?" Harry asked hopefully as he looked down on the ghostly visage of his friend. He waited a few moments and was beginning to despair that the gasp he'd heard was no more than a trick of his rattled mind.

Viktor gasped again and Harry found himself staring into his friend's pain filled eyes as they fluttered open.

"Viktor, can you hear me?" Harry beseeched him.

" 'Arry.. bevare." Viktor croaked out. His right hand motioned weakly toward the Long Snout that was spiraling down toward them.

Ignoring his friend's warning, Harry made to place his hands under Viktor's shoulders and legs as if to pick up his wounded form.

"No..." Viktor rasped painfully. "Save... yourself, 'Arry. I'm finished…" Viktor's eyes began to dim.

"**No, Viktor!**"Harry shouted in denial. His words were all but unheard over the deafening roars of the Long Snout that was bearing down on them.

"You're going to be alright Viktor. You have to be alright. I can't lose another..." Harry's pleas were cut off by dying friend.

"Good.. Bye , ..' Arry.." Viktor croaked out as his breathing slowed.

"**Viktor!" **

Harry's agonized plea echoed over the din.

Phoenix song filled the air…


	27. Chapter 27: Memories

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:****Memories**

_**Flashback….**_

Ginny Weasley had had an amazing week where quidditch was concerned. She'd proven herself as number one amongst her fellow rookies at the Holyhead Harpies- Rookie Training Camp. Gwenog Jones, **the** Gwenog Jones, herself, had told Ginny that she would be traveling with the team this fall, and with luck, she would be seeing playing time by winter. Yes, it had been a great week where quidditch was concerned. The rest of the week was proving to be utter rubbish.

_Merlin! How could she have been so stupid?_ _How could I think for a minute that I was in love with an evil git like Draco Malfoy? I'd believed every damn lie that filthy Death Eater had spewed at me. I slept with him! I actually gave my virginity to that evil bastard! Then, to top it all off, I flouted my relationship with Draco in front of my parents, my best friend, and the two Brothers who's opinions I value the most. I'm an absolute idiot! _

These were the thoughts that kept Ginny in a state of heightened anxiety as she prepared to floo home to the Burrow before traveling with her family to the World Cup in Romania.

As she packed her bag for the return trip home, she began to hum a familiar tune. Not for the first time, she found herself humming the same tune she'd heard Alan Brandt sing as his final encore the night of the Ball. His song was so hauntingly familiar. It seemed to reach right out to her, almost as if it were meant for her to hear. She only wished that her memory of that evening wasn't poisoned by dancing in Draco's arms, that and everything that had occurred immediately after when she'd humiliated herself, not to mention let herself get _imperiosed._

_I and stood there like a drunken idiot!, _as Draco had set his goons upon her family. If it hadn't been for Alan Brandt's timely arrival she shuddered to think what might have happened.

_Merlin's blood!_ _Alan Brandt could fight!_ She'd never seen anyone defend themselves that way. She read about Martial Arts in her Muggle Studies, but to actually see someone physically defend themselves that way, without magic…? She'd be lying, to herself, if she didn't admit she'd been impressed. _Impressed? Bullocks! _She'd been downright awed by Brandt.

Ginny had personally watched Harry Potter take on a whole contingent of Death Eaters back at the battle of the Ministry, and Harry was hell when he brought his full power to bear against his enemies. _Strange, the memory seemed clearer now somehow?_

_But this guy, this Alan Brandt_,… there was just something about him that sent a shiver up her spine. She didn't know how she knew it, but she knew with complete certainty that Alan Brandt was perhaps the most dangerous man alive.

Brandt moved with such fluid and deadly grace. His eyes, they were like steel; ridged and unyielding. There wasn't a trace of hesitation in his decisions. Not the slightest hint of fear. The man just absolutely radiated power and confidence. He went thru Draco's men like they were nothing. Then he looked at her, just looked at her, and she could feel the _imperious's_ hold weaken until she was free.

_He knew though_. She could see it in his eyes that he knew. He knew that up until just moments before she was _imperioused_, that she had acted of her own accord and had freely given herself to Draco.

_He knew it_. She could see the disappointment in his eyes, though why it should be there, why he should even give a damn about her, was beyond her capacity. She was a nobody, just little Ginny Weasley and he was Alan Brandt, world renowned quidditch star and World Cup contender, and,… and _God, could he sing! _

_Stop that , Ginny. _She scolded herself_. He was just being a good Samaritan and coming to your family's defense_. _Alan Brandt doesn't even know that you're alive. _She admonished herself dejectedly.

"Ughh!" she grunted in frustration as she slung her duffle over her shoulder and left for the Harpies floo station.

Minutes later...

"Mum?... Dad? I'm home." Ginny called out as she stepped from the floo grate into the Burrow's warm interior. The living room was oddly quiet given the fact that she expected to find her home bursting with activity as her family prepared to travel to the World Cup. She expected to at least find Ron badgering Hermione with endless statistics regarding his beloved Chudley Cannons.

"Ron?" she called out expectantly as she stepped toward the kitchen.

"In here, Ginny." her brother called.

Ginny walked toward the kitchen with a smirk on her lips as she expected to find her, endlessly ravenous, brother chewing his way thru a batch of barely cooled leftovers. She found instead, Ron and Hermione having a quiet cup of tea. They looked expectantly at her as she entered the kitchen.

"W-Where is everyone?" She asked in growing concern. "Aren't we going to the Cup?"

Ron and Hermione shared a look of resolved determination before her brother said. "We are Ginny. The question is if you are?"

"Don't be stupid, of course I'm going. I wouldn't miss it for the world. What's up with you two? Why are you acting so strange and where is everyone else?" Ginny asked nervously. Something was wrong, she could see it in their eyes as they looked solemnly her way.

"They've already left for Romania. They had some, er, last minute arrangements to take care of."

Ginny's face took on a puzzled expression. "Last minute arrangements? What last minute arrangements and why didn't you two go along? "

"They're taking care of what they need to do and we stayed to do our part in helping you." Hermione offered by way of a vague explanation.

"Help me? I don't need any help. I already packed for Romania before I left for the Harpies training camp. I just need to grab my bag and we can go."

"That's not what we're here to help you with Ginny. We're here to help you to understand what you'd be leaving here for." Ron continued cryptically.

Ginny's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're acting very dodgy, Ron Weasley. Both of you are, and I don't like it. I want answers and I want them now." she finished menacingly as her hand drifted toward her wand.

"That's exactly why we stayed behind, Ginny, to give you answers. It's time you knew everything, but in order for us to do that we need to show you, not just tell you those answers. "

"Show me...? Show me what?" Ginny's hand flew to her wand and she held it threateningly on the two of them. She narrowed her eyes dangerously and hissed. "You two had better start talking and now, unless of course you'd like to meet my batty little friends?" she threatened with a humorless smirk.

For their part, neither Ron nor Hermione made any attempt to reach for their own wands but just continued to sit and calmly sip at their tea.

"Well..?" Ginny growled impatiently.

Her brother and Hermione shared a knowing look and then turned their attention back to an infuriated, Ginny.

"As I said, Ginny,… we intend to show you everything, and I do mean, **everything**." Her brother began before Hermione added.

"Before we begin, Ginny, I want you to know that we love you. All of us love you and would do anything for you,... well,… almost anything." Hermione amended with a tinge of sadness staining her voice.

Ron squeezed her hand reassuringly and she shot a grateful smile in his direction.

"I love you too." Ginny responded as she lowered her wand ashamedly. She bit her lip in concentration before her eyes went wide as she caught something in what he just said to her.

"Almost? That's what you said- almost? Why would you say that you'd do **almost** anything for me? What does that mean,... **almost**?" she stressed worriedly.

"It means.." Ron began hesitantly, "that we'd do anything for you, except let you kill yourself. Anything, but that. Never that." Ron finished rigidly. His blue eyes bore into her shocked brown ones.

"K-Kill myself? I would never try and…"

"Yes, you would and you have." Hermione interrupted her in a no nonsense tone of voice. "You just don't remember it." Hermione added regretfully.

Ginny looked wildly back and forth between the faces of her brother and her best friend. She was desperately hoping to find some glint that this was all some sick prank, but their faces showed no hint of deception.

"N-No…" she rasped in frightened denial. "No. Tell me it's not true? Tell me I didn't. I can't remember ever doing anything like that. Why would I do it? How could I? Please, Ronnie, I-I don't understand?" she pleaded before breaking into frightened sobs.

Ron rose from his seat and pulled her into his arms "Shhh, now. It's alright. It's going to be alright. There's still a chance to change everything back to the way it should be. How it was meant to be."

"C-Change what?" Ginny snuffled into his shoulder.

"To make things right again. To change and heal the lives of the two most important people, to us, in the whole world." Hermione said as she joined them in their embrace.

"Who?" Ginny asked in an expectant, almost frightened voice.

"You, of course. " Ron said as he pulled back from her embrace and smiled warmly at her.

"Who else, Ronnie? Hermione said two people. Who's the other person?"

Ron's face fell slightly but his eyes grew intense as he looked his sister in the eyes and answered bluntly. "Harry Potter."

"Harry? You can't help Harry anymore, Ron, H-Harry's dead. You can't bring back the dead. No one can do that." Ginny said matter 'o fact.

"We don't need to bring him back, Ginny. We need to stop him from dying."

Ginny's eyes nearly popped out of her head as his words sunk in, but, before she could ask one of the thousands of questions that were running thru her mind, Ron added in a deadly serious tone of voice.

"Do you trust us, Ginny. Do you trust me and 'Mione?"

"Y-Yes." Ginny stammered. "You know I do,.. but what..?"

"Then we need you to come with us to Hogwarts. There's something you need to see there. Something that we think will help you remember, so that you understand things better. It just might change your whole world, and Harry's too."

Ginny's eyes shot from Ron's manic intensity to Hermione's calm reassurance. Hermione nodded her head encouragingly.

"Al-alright, Ron. I'll come with you." She said in a frightened, but resolute voice as she took her brothers out stretched hand.

**Hogwarts **

Ron, Hermione and Ginny arrived at Headmistress's McGonagal's office, minutes later. The headmistress had tea brought and the small gathering sat in an uncomfortable silence until McGonagal cleared her throat to gain their attention. Once there eyes were turned in her direction, she started what was sure to be the beginning, or possibly the ending, of many things.

"Let me start off by saying just how proud I am for all of you for being here today. You all have displayed true Gryffindor courage in the face of what I'm sure will prove to be a most trying, but worthwhile endeavor. One, that if you prove successful, as I'm confident you will, will help to improve a great many lives, most of which you're own."

"Professor,.. I..?"

McGonagal held up a placating hand that silenced Ginny before she could begin one of many unanswered and albeit, frightening questions.

"Ginny. I know that you have many questions, and I can assure you," At this she paused and glared meaningfully at Ron and Hermione before continuing her train of thought. "that many, if not all, of your questions will be answered here today. Firstly, let me start by acknowledging something you already know to be true. Your family and friends love you deeply Ginevra. Out of that deep and abiding love they did something that might seem on the surface very cruel, but I tell you this; it was not. It was a blessing that brought peace to a troubled, if not already broken, mind."

Hermione began crying softly, her eyes downcast as McGonagal went on.

"Hermione and your family placed a charm upon you that _obliviated _certain memories, memories of a most personal nature. The memories that I am speaking of were memories of feelings. Deep seated feelings: ones of intense love and passion. They are the sort of memories that most of us spend our whole lives searching to find. I'm talking about the memories of love, the sort of love that is shared between a man and a woman. This sort of love is the true magic of this world. This love is what makes life worth living. It is also the sort of love that once taken away, can bring such pain that it can utterly destroy the lives of those it once touched. I'm talking about the sort of love that your parents have for each other, that Ronald, though he may not realize it yet, has for Hermione, and she for him."

At this she paused, her eyes twinkling mischievously as Hermione and Ron blushed their way through various stages of utter embarrassment, elicited by her pronouncement.

"But, I digress." she returned to the topic at hand. "We are not here today to state the obvious."

Again she paused with faint interest as Hermione's face flushed a satisfactory shade of pink.

"We are here in fact to help you rediscover these feelings that you, yourself, once had."

"I had..." Ginny's voice echoed hollowly. "I had with... who?" she asked blankly as her mind struggled to recall even the barest trace memory of ever feeling that way.

"Who Indeed?" McGonagal smirked knowingly. "As to that, I direct you to the Pensieve that awaits." Her arm drifted in the direction of the pensieve that swirled ominously at the rear of her office.

"Painstakingly gathered within are the recollections of many of your family and friends. I believe it will show you a side to yourself that you have been made to forget, but will come to embrace wholeheartedly."

Ginny's eyes shifted nervously toward the indicated pensieve but she made no move rise from her chair , asking instead.

"Why, professor? Why did everyone do this? What's so special about me that anyone would even bother to take the time to remove any of my memories, let alone go thru all the trouble of rectifying the situation after the fact?"

McGonagal raised an eyebrow intriguingly. "An honest and direct question, I compliment you on your insight Ms. Weasley, and I will attempt to give you an honest and direct answer to your question. You Ginevra, are an excellent student, a most capable and a rather attractive young witch and a fierce competitor both on and off the quidditch field. If you are inquiring as to your own value then you really only need look no further than your own family. They and Ms. Granger can give testament to your own value as a member of the Weasley family and as a cherished friend. That alone and of itself, is not sole reason that the afore mentioned parties have gone to such great lengths as to remove certain memories that were causing you a great deal of pain, nor does it explain why they have gone to such lengths to try and rectify that situation now. As Ronald and Hermione may have already informed you, there is another person who factors into this equation. It is, in all honesty, for him that we are trying to regain your memories. As much as you are valued by your friends and family; there is another who is equally valued and missed by not only those same parties, but by the greater part of the wizarding world as a whole. It is for both of you that we do this because the world needs him, and above all else; he needs you. I could tell you this story, and would do so gladly, if I knew enough of the particulars to do it justice, but even then it would have no more significance to you than as being only that; a mere story."

Her hand drifted toward the pensieve once again as she finished.

"For you to fully appreciate the significance of this story and what it means personally for you, yourself, than you need to see it with your own eyes. Though it is by no means a complete recollection of all that you have lost, I believe that many of the highlights are contained within."

Ginny nodded her head somberly and rose up to join her brother and friend ,where they waited by the pensieve. She was by no means convinced by the headmistress's words. Ginny was at least curious to see what was so important within the penieve's opalescent, swirling depths, that so many had gone to such lengths to protect her from herself.

"W-What do we do?" she asked nervously.

Hermione reached out to her and she gratefully accepted her friend's proffered hand.

"Remember", Hermione began warningly, "that what you are about to see is only memories of things as they happened. You cannot affect, nor be affected by what you see transpiring within the pensieve. Many of the things you will see are quite frightening. Others may be very troubling for you to witness, but all of them are true recollection from those who witnessed these events. The first thing you're going to see may be the most frightening of all, but it is also one of the most important things as in many ways this first event shaped your life and made you in part the extraordinary person you are today. It will also show you a great insight into what it means to be Harry Potter, not the fame of being the wizarding world's hero, but just what that reality of that title implies. I have never viewed this particular memory, but, I'm told it's a very humbling experience, to say the least." she finished and turned her eyes expectantly toward Ron for further explanation.

"We're going to show you the memory that Harry gave to Dumbledore concerning the events of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets, when Harry rescued you." Ron warned her.

"Rescued me? I- I thought that you carried me out of the Chamber, Ron?" Ginny asked troubled.

"I carried you to Dumbledore's office, but I didn't rescue you from the Chamber, Ginny. That was all, Harry." Ron said with a ghost of a smile.

"Come on, Ginny. I think we all need to see for ourselves what really happened that day."

Ginny nodded anxiously and the three entered the pensieve.

They watched the memory of Ron and Harry taking an obviously terrified Gilderoy Lockhart, reluctantly along with them into the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny felt ashamed of herself for ever having such a school girl crush on such an obvious coward, doubly so, when Lockhart tried to _obliviate_ Ron and Harry in an attempt to save his own arse.

Ron smirked fondly at Harry's recollection of Ron kicking Lockhart after the cave in.

They all watched Harry enter the Chamber and try to revive a desperately weak and dying Ginny, followed by Harry confronting a young Tom Riddle. They gasped and averted their eyes in horror when Riddle summoned the basilisk, each briefly fearing the gaze of the malevolent creature, forgetting momentarily that it was only a memory and that they were in no danger.

Ginny watched in awe and terror as:

Harry tried to draw the basilisk away from her prone form- Fawkes's timely arrival and subsequent blinding of the basilisk- Harry pulling the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat and squaring off against the titanic beast.

They watched Harry drive the sword into the basilisk's maw, impaling himself, in the process, on the basilisk's venomous fangs. Still, even though he was dying, he didn't give up. He couldn't because Riddle was still there and Ginny was still in mortal danger. Harry destroyed Riddle's diary and the dark lord's rejuvenated self along with it, by impaling the diary with the poisoned fang that Harry pulled from his own body.

Hermione and Ginny cried softly as they watched a twelve year old Harry Potter bravely face his own demise and thank Fawkes for his assistance. The scene completed with Fawkes using his own tears to heal Harry's wound and Harry crawling over to Ginny and try to revive her, begging her not to die.

Hermione turned her tear stained face to Ron. He was very pale, but still met her eyes when she asked simply. "D-Did you know? Did you know he was poisoned by the basilisk that night?"

Ron shook his head slowly and said. "He never said a word, not ever. Did he ever tell you?"

"No" she returned meekly. After a pause she returned her attention to;

"Ginny, you need to understand something. Harry only saw you then as Ron's little sister. He would have tried to save anyone that was held captive in the Chamber, but even more so because you were so important to your family, and they were in turn, very important to Harry. He would have done anything to try and save anyone of you, even when he was only twelve years old."

Ginny just gaped at them with her mouth hanging open in silent horror. Disbelief over what she had just witness was etched in every line of her features.

"This is the only early, personal memory of Harry's that we have to show you. Ron and I and several of your family and friends have contributed many of their recollections of Harry's life, especially memories that involved the both of you. I'm sure that there are infinitely more personal moments that the two of you shared, of which that the rest of us know absolutely nothing about. You must understand that Harry is a very private person. He's a very shy, and yet, very loving person. It takes a lot for Harry to trust someone enough that he will risk baring his soul to them, and he may only do it just once."

That said, they watched several more scenes play out.

They watched as Harry struggled with the knowledge that he was pursued by the notorious, Sirius Black, his own Godfather, imprisoned for his part in the slaying of Harry's parents.

Ginny felt a surge of pride when her own, injured brother, stood before his fallen friends in an attempt to shield them from Black, who shortly thereafter was vindicated by the capture of Peter Pettigrew, who had been masquerading as the Weasley family's pet rat, for years.

Ron watched awestruck as Harry summoned his trademark stag _patronus_, and used it to fight off literally hundreds of Dementors before he and Hermione rescued Sirius Black by flying up to the astronomy tower on the hippogriff- Buck Beak.

Harry's fourth year was even more troubling and difficult to endure. Ron watched ashamedly as he turned on his friend before the first task of the triwizard's tournament, having wrongfully thought that Harry was seeking glory for himself.

Ginny remember all of the things she witnessed, all except one thing: the look of disappointment on Harry's face when he realized, too late, that he could have asked Ginny Weasley to the Tri- Wizard's Ball.

She watched in anguish as Harry returned from the third task with Cedric Diggory's corpse and she saw for herself the look she had on her own face when Ron turned to her. Her eyes were full of compassion where they were fixed on Harry. She could tell by the look on her own face, in this memory, how desperately she wanted to go and comfort him, before he was whisked away by the fraudulent Professor Moody.

This scene was followed by Harry's breakdown in the infirmary that night. Ginny watched with tear stained eyes as Harry sobbed his misery into the arms of her own mother.

The playback paused as Hermione addressed her.

"Your mum provided this memory. She thought it was important for you to see for so many reasons. The first of which is that; this was probably the first and only time that any of us have ever seen Harry cry. Secondly, it's important to know why he's crying. He's not crying for himself as most anyone would be wont to do. No, he's crying over the unjust slaying of Cedric Diggory and his own inability to have prevented it, cumulating with his own misplaced guilt at having been a party to restoring Voldemort. Lastly, though I'm probably the first person that Harry ever remembers having hugged him, you're mum thinks this is the first time that Harry has ever felt himself held in the comforting arms, of a mother. He was Fourteen when this happened."

Ginny just stared at Hermione with her fingers pressed over her mouth and nodded her understanding of everything her friend meant. The equivalence of so many things happening to one so young, to have suffered so much, and yet so old as to never know a family's comfort was absolutely staggering.

More scenes began to play. The most significant of which ,for Ginny, being when Harry kissed Cho Chang after one of the DADA classes as viewed by Hermione. The significance of this was such, that while Harry tentatively returned the kiss, Hermione was looking not at Harry, but with concern at Ginny.

Ginny could see her face clearly through Hermione's eyes and what she saw was a face full of jealousy,. and longing. It both shocked and intrigued her. Distantly, she felt something stir deep within her soul…

The Department of Mysteries was next.

Ginny watched closely, expectantly keeping an eye out for something that her errant memory had forgotten. She was not disappointed. She watched through Ron's eyes as she was knocked unconscious and as her assailant moved in for the kill. Harry stepped over her fallen form and took curse after curse, shielding her, as he fought the encroaching Death Eaters back. Not one, but two streaks of, an all too familiar, green light hit his body.

_He had taken two __killing curses __that were meant for her?_

It was at this point that Ginny began screaming,"No!", as she stepped back in terror from the memory until she removed herself from the pensieve altogether.

"No!...No..." Ginny's shrieks of anguish gradually receding to dejected mumbles of denial as she grasped a nearby chair for support and shook her head as if trying to dispel an unwanted, inconceivable image from her mind.

Ron and Hermione emerged from the pensieve just as McGonagal was about to reach out to Ginny.

Ginny shook them off and moved around the chair she was using for support, placing it between herself and the others.

"Ginny..?" Hermione asked fretfully.

Ginny turned wild, pain stricken eyes on them and breathed out disbelievingly."No one… No one does something like that? No one takes a _killing curse _for just anyone else? I saw his face. He knew. He knew it was the _Avada Kedavra- _both times!He knew what it was and he took it,. **for me! **You don't just do something like that. Not unless,.. not unless.. you...?" Ginny closed her eyes and shuddered, something was beginning to swell within the very pit of her being.

"Not unless you love someone more than you love yourself." Hermione finished proudly the thought her friend was afraid to say.

"Ginny, I.." Ron tried to reach out for his sister but she backed away from him. Her eyes shifted fearfully from her brother's concerned face, to the pensieve waiting just behind him.

"Please, Ginny, there's more you need to see? So much more. There's so much more that you don't remember and so much you need to understand." Ron begged anxiously.

He was afraid she couldn't go thru with their plan. They needed her to finish if she and Harry were to have any chance at mending their torn existence.

"I-I can't, Ron. I ..can't. It's too much already, and you say there's more? I-I can't take anymore. Not now. Not like this...?" she pleaded with him to understand what she was too terrified to comprehend for herself."

Ginny bolted away from them and made for the Headmistress's office door, calling back over her shoulder as she ran,"P-Please, just leave me alone. I need some time to sort this out!"

"Ginny! Ginny.. don't.." Ron called out dejectedly.

"Let her go, Ronald." McGonagal agreed defeated. "She's right, it is too much to take in all at once. I fear that if we press her, we'll only do more harm than good. She needs time to sort things out within herself, before she can continue."

"But, Professor, there's no time. The World Cup match is tonight."

"A fact, the ramifications of which, I am most painfully aware, Mr. Weasley." She clucked disapprovingly.

"Should we still follow thru with our plans? Without Ginny?" Hermione questioned nervously.

"As to that, I would say that you must all do as you think best, Ms. Granger. Let me at least say this; if you do not follow thru with your plan and Harry seizes upon the opportunity to abscond, we will most likely never see him again. If you do follow thru with your plans and expose Alan Brandt's true identity, though Harry will undoubtedly despise you for it, it may at least buy us the time we need to bring our plan to fruition? I, for one, will weather his animosity if it affords us the opportunity to save his life." She stated in bold resignation for her part.

Ron and Hermione shared a tense look before nodding their own agreement.


	28. Chapter 28: Cleansing Fire

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters**.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:** **Cleansing Fire**

"**Viktor!"**

Harry pulled his dying friend tenderly into his arms. Phoenix song filled the night air around them. A glowing sphere of golden energy burst into being around Harry. Harry pulled Viktor to his chest and laid his cheek to rest against his friend's bloodied head.

The sphere grew in size and intensity until it finally encompassed the both of them, obscuring them from view.

" _I'm not exactly sure what's happening down there." _Lee Jordan's voice echoed over the wizarding wireless as nations across the world held their breath in frightened anticipation.

"_I-I think Viktor Krum has...d-died. Harry Potter is screaming his name and trying to lift Krum's broken form into his arms._

_The Long Snout is nearly on top of them. _

_I t-think this is going to be the final,. the real finish of the wizarding world's greatest champion. _

_I... what's that sound?" _Lee Jordan's voice paused in consternation_. _

"_I.. I think it's.. Phoenix song?"_ He echoed questioning his own ears.

"_It is Phoenix song, but where is it coming from? It's growing louder._

_**My God, **__It's coming from Potter! _

_I don't know if you can hear this at home folks, but the melodic tones of Phoenix Song is filling the stadium. _

_A shield of some kind has surrounded the forms of Harry Potter and Viktor Krum in a golden, pulsating sphere of energy. I'm not sure, but,.. I think that.._

_Harry Potter is summoning the legendary __**Phoenix Fire!**__"_

**The Burrow**

" _Harry Potter is summoning the legendary Phoenix Fire!" _echoed over the wireless.

Eyes that had been crying fought back tears. One family member looked hopefully to the next_. _Each began to pray in silent hope that Harry would once again do the impossible.

**Hogwarts**

"_Haryy Potter has summoned the Phoenix Fire!" _blaired over the wireless_._

_Thank God_. Minerva McGonagal thought smiling in relief upon hearing Lee Jordan's shocked voice over the wireless. Not for the first time tonight, she wished that Albus Dumbledore was here to witness history in the making.

_He would have been so proud of Harry_.

"Fulfill your destiny, Harry." she whispered quietly to herself.

**Romania**

_"The Long Snout is rearing its head back ,.. _

_I think it's going to give them a blast of fire..."_

_**Whack!**_

A deafening blast sounded over the airwaves, shortly followed by agonized howls of pain.

"_The blast of fire from the Long Snout ricocheted off of the golden sphere surrounding Potter and Krum and hit the Long Snout's open mouth in return!" _Jordan bellowed excitedly on the wireless.

"_The Long Snout is tearing madly at its throat as if it's choking on its own fire! "_

_Merlin's shriveled wand! That's disgusting..." _

_"In its blind torment, the Long Snout has torn out its own throat!" _

_"Christ, what a ghastly site." _

After a few more colorful expletives from Jordan, the Long Snout thankfully succumbed to its injuries and fell to the pitch-dead.

"_That's it for the Long Snout,.. Thank God"_

A brief pause later, and Lee Jordan continued his eyewitness commentary:

"_Something else is happening here again." _

_"The Phoenix music has stopped and as I'm looking down at the pitch, it appears that the golden sphere surrounding Potter and Krum is beginning to fade.. and..."_

_"Merlin's hoary host!" _

_"Krum is standing!" _

_"Wow, He looks completely healed?" _

_"Potter is saying something to him and gesturing toward the north end of the stadium." _

_"By the way Krum is shaking his head; he doesn't look any too keen by what Potter has in mind." _

_"Yes, it definitely looks as if our two heroes are arguing amongst themselves down there." _

After a brief pause Jordan continued_..._

"_Well,.. whatever that was about, it's over now." _

_"Krum just embraced Potter in a brief hug before mounting his broom. Krum has taken to the air and is making his way toward the North side of the stands." _

_"He seems to be heading toward a couple of people that have remained behind, why I can't imagine?" _

_"The stadium is pretty torn up over there." _

_"Perhaps Krum intends to take the stranded pair to safety." _

_"I'm not really sure, but,… maybe if I can get a better look thru my omnoculars… it almost looks like,.. yes,.. it is!" _

_"That's Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger down there, the other two thirds of the famous 'Golden Trio' of Hogwart's fame." _

_"Krum's pulled up next to Granger and Weasley and I can't really make out at this distance, but,.. the three of them appear to be arguing about something." _

_"Frankly, I haven't got a clue what's going on, but whatever Krum's telling them, they don't look to thrilled about it." _

_"Whilst Krum, Granger and Weasley are having it out, Potter is just standing in the middle of the pitch and staring up into the night black sky. I don't know what he's seeing up there that I can't, but I've suddenly got a very bad feeling about this, folks."_

"No, Viktor! I don't care what Harry said. I'm not leaving unless he's coming with us." Hermione stomped her foot angrily in defiance as she glared at her former boyfriend, now friend.

"Pleaze, Hermionee?'

Viktor turned anxiously toward her companion.

"Ron, vould you help me, please?" he pleaded for Ron's support.

"Sorry, Viktor, but I'm with her. We're not leaving Harry behind. Not this time. Not ever again." Ron answered in a tone that would brook no further argument.

Viktor looked exasperatedly between the two. "But you do not understand?"

"What Viktor? What don't we understand?" Hermione spat impatiently.

Viktor would have laughed outrageously if circumstances were different. Here they were arguing with him as death and destruction continued to rain down all around them.

He ran his hands worriedly thru his thick black hair. For a split second, he contemplated defying Harry's last request, but conquered the urge to do so. Harry had just saved his life. He owed him a wizard's life debt and like it or not, he would honor Harry's request.

"You must leave now. 'Arry said that there is still great danger. He says that there is something still out there." Viktor swept his hand toward the black southern sky apprehensively.

" 'Arry said that there iz somezing very evil out there. Somezing dat is vorse then dragons. He says dat it must be destroyed. No matter vat, it must be destroyed! 'Arry is going to remain behind to kill dis thing, but you must go, both of you-NOW!" Viktor barked desperately.

A terrified look swept across Hermione's features. "No. No we could help." she began to plead, shaking her head.

"And you vill, by staying safe and allowing 'Arry to do az he must."

That said, Viktor plowed his broomstick toward the unsuspecting couple. He grabbed up each of his two startled friends under an arm and blasted his broomstick,(along with his struggling guests), directly into a nearby apparation exit.

With a loud **"pop"**, the struggling trio departed.


	29. Chapter 29: Once more into the Breech

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.**

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Once More into the Breach**

**Eastern Romania**

"Just what do you think you're doing? How dare you!" Hermione raged.

"What the bloody hell!." Ron began to throw in, before Viktor unceremoniously dumped the struggling couple on his parlor floor.

"Velcome to my home." He intoned hollowly, looking down at his outraged friends where they lie sprawled across his carpets.

Viktor lowered himself from his hovering broom and calmly stored it in a nearby closet before turning back to the now standing couple that glared angrily at him.

"Vould you like some refreshments?" He asked politely with a hint of a charming smile playing at his usually scowling visage.

"What I'd like is to use your floo system, **immediately!**" Hermione barked furiously.

"Of course." Viktor agreed cordially. "You'll find my fireplace is just to the left of that doorway." Viktor fanned his fingers in the direction of the hallway to his right.

Hermione and Ron charged in the indicated direction and moments later their angry voices called out to their erstwhile host:

"What are you playing at, Viktor? The damned Floo's not allowing entry." Ron's enraged voice bellowed from down the hall.

Viktor Krum padded slowly toward the door to his sitting room and replied nonchalantly as he came.

"But, of course, the floo is warded against uninvited entry. No one can travel vithout the proper passvord. You may, of course, floo call at anytime. I suggest you contact your parent's Ron, I am sure zat your family iz no doubt vorried about you."

"Bollocks that!" Ron snarled. "We're going back to the stadium to help Harry."

Hermione nodded her agreement to Ron's defiant retort.

"I zink not." Viktor answered flatly. "At least not on zat floo anyway. The emergency floo system would only allow for exit from the stadium. Only ze aurors would have ze proper authorization to floo in during an emergency. Besides, even if you could floo zer,… I vill not give you my passvord." Viktor finished with a smile and polite shrug of his shoulders.

Hermione stood gaping at him, absolutely flabbergasted. When she finally shook off her initial shock, she reached toward the waist of her jumper only to grasp at empty air.

"Your vands vere confiscated ven you entered ze stadium, remember?" Viktor reminded them gently. "You vill not be apparating anytime soon, either of you,.. yes?"

Ron narrowed his eyes and spoke in a dangerous undertone as he stalked toward Viktor. "What's the bloody password, Viktor?"

Viktor smiled knowingly without the slightest hint of apprehension. Before Ron could close the distance between them, he calmly snapped his fingers. Three house elves popped into view, at Viktor's summons. Each of the elves barred Ron's advance toward Viktor and brandished their magical fingers in a warning, wand-like fashion.

Elves were adept at wandless magic.

Ron halted his advance and gulped nervously.

"As I said before,... I vill not tell you the passvord thru my floo's wards. You may call out, but leaving here is not an option for you during ze current crisis."

"Viktor, please." Hermione pleaded as she began to snuffle, overwhelmed by the futility she felt.

Harry's still out there fighting for his life. We have to help him."  
"He iz fighting for all of our lives and you cannot help him." Viktor answered incredulously.

"What? Of course we can help him. We can..?" Ron began to argue.

Viktor cut him off before he could get going. "You can get yourselves killed and succeed in distracting him enough to get Harry killed as vell. You cannot floo to ze stadium and even if you could, you have no vands!" he reiterated in exasperation over the illogic of their argument..

Hermione's face went ashen in dread realization. She slumped into one of the rooms couches.

"It's happening all over again." she mumbled dejected.

Ron retreated to her and gathered his girlfriend up into a comforting embrace. He cooed softly to her that everything was going to be alright.

She would not be consoled as she sobbed. "H-He's doing it again. Harry's out there fighting for his life and here we sit- helpless."

"Harry will... he'll.." Ron struggled to find any words of reassurance, but words failed him.

"Harry will get himself killed, if he's not dead already." Hermione whispered mournfully into his shoulder.

Moments later, Hermione pulled herself resolutely out of Ron's arms and turned to look at the saddened visage of their friend.

"Why, Viktor ?" she asked distraughtly.

Viktor's visage softened as he answered truthfully."Because I owe 'Arry a life debt. He saved my life tonight. I vas dying. I could feel myself slipping away, but then I heard zis beautiful music and I could hear him calling to me,.. and... I came back."

"You talk as if you were already dead. Ron asked cautiously.

"I zink I already vas. I could see my parents in the distance and Cedric was waving to me."

"You can't come back from the dead. No magic can bring someone back." Ron argued disbelievingly.

"I guess no one az told zat to ' Arry." Viktor shrugged indifferently.

Both Ron and Hermione starred at him in utter disbelief, but Viktor continued as if unaware of their skepticism.

"After he brought me back, 'Arry asked me to get you two to safety. He knew you vould not leave on your own and zat at some point you vould recklessly try to intervene. He said that he could not do as he must if he has to vorry about you. Zat and..." Viktor's face darkened as he remembered himself and cut off his words.

"That, and what, Victor? What more aren't you telling us?" Hermione said with rising panic.

Viktor regarded her stoically for several long moments.

"What did he say?" Ron growled threatening.

If Viktor felt any trepidation at Ron's warning tone he never displayed it. He answered them calmly, but with a tinge of regret in his voice.

" 'Arry said it vos too late,.. somezing about how zee 'darkness was upon him'." Viktor quoted Harry's own words.

Before anymore could be said, Lee Jordan's anxious voice grew louder over the wireless coming from the parlor that they had vacated.

" _Something's tearing at the supports of the stadium's south wall. _

_It must be a dragon of some sort because I can just make out giant talons tearing at the walls down there._

Great rending sounds echoed in the background as Jordan continued his commentary.

"_Whatever that is, it's about to break through the stadium's wall. _

_For the life of me, I don't know why he doesn't get the hell out of there. Harry Potter is just standing calmly in the center of the pitch. _

_He looks like he's.. _

_He is,.. he's stripping off his quidditch robes and protective armor? What's he playing at? _

_Potter's stripped off all his garments except for a pair of shorts. _

_Wow! _

_You ladies out there are really missing something,... that's quite a physique. _

_Despite his lean appearance, Potter is really quite well developed. _

_He looks in top form, literally covered with steel hard that I'm interested, mind you. Just making an observation for the home audience_-he demurred.

A horrific rending sounded over the airwaves as the south wall of the stadium was ripped away.

"_The south wall has given way and I can't really see with all the dust and debris flying around down there, but.. something appears to be moving and... Merlin's saggy arse! _

_What in the name of all that's holy is that? _

_I don't know what the hell I'm looking at folks? _

_Whatever this thing is, it's huge! _

_It must be twice, even three times the length of a dragon._

_It looks kind of like a dragon, but it's leaner and sinewy,…more like a snake. _

_It's scaled hide has a metallic sheen, almost like it's scales are made of steel, but that can't be? It must just be a trick of the light. _

_It had a pair of wings on its back, but their small and feathery, not like the leathern wings of a dragon. I can't imagine that those wings are capable of flight, not considering the size of that thing. _

_Its head is more snake-like and it's got huge fangs jutting out from an impossibly large mouth. _

_Someone's riding on the back of ,.. well,.. whatever that is? _

_He's dressed in crimson robes, unlike the black worn by the rest of those wankers that attacked the stadium tonight. _

_I'm guessing this must be the ring leader of that, now very deceased, merry band of murderers."_ Jordan drawled sarcastically.

**Krum's House**

Moments before...

"_It's head is more snakelike and it's got these huge fangs jutting out from an impossibly large mouth. _

Hermione fell despondently onto the couch as Jordan continued his commentary.

She sat blankly staring off at nothing.

"Hermione, what is **it**, love?" Ron asked in concern

Hermione turned vacant, hopeless eyes toward Ron and Viktor as she choked out...

"I-It's a w-wyvern..."

**The Burrow**

All eyes in the room turned to Charlie, but it was who found the courage to ask what the rest of them feared.

"Charlie, is that some kind of Dragon that Jordan's describing?"

Charlie's face was uncharacteristically fearful, devoid of the ready grin that usually etched his features. He cast a nervous glance toward the stairs that Ginny had fled up on the way to her room, moments ago.

"I-I don't know," Charlie began in hesitation, "but it kinda sounds like Jordan's describing a wyvern? It can't be though; wyverns have been extinct for hundreds of years. Their breeding was outlawed by the Confederation of Wizards, sometime after the Dark Ages."

"Apparently they didn't get the non-paternal message, Charlie." Fred quipped sarcastically.

Ignoring his brother's comment, Percy asked. "If it is a wyvern, how do you kill it?"

"Kill it? I don't know if it can be killed?" Charlie gasped out in alarm as he considered the horrors of such a prospect.

"Well obviously somebody's killed the bloody things, otherwise, they wouldn't be extinct now would they?" George rebuffed irritably. The twins characteristic sense of humor had fled them in the face of the mounting tension they all felt.

"They weren't killed, not that I heard anyway. The Confederation made it illegal to breed them and with their short life spans, they simply died out of existence. Their scales have a metallic quality that makes them impervious to magic and most conventional weapons, besides tha,t they spit a poisonous acid that can kill damn near anything. You'd have to be insane to even consider taking on something like that." Charlie finished in dread awe.

Fred and George groaned simultaneously.

"What..?" Charlie asked, oblivious to the reaction of his rest of his family in response to his last statement.

"Well, Charles... Just who do you know that would be crazy enough to tackle such a dark creature?" Fred ground out before his twin added.

"Yeah , Charlie. Know anyone with a resume for having a history of dispatching: giant spiders, dragons and a basilisk?"

"Shy, rather handsome fellow. Fair at quidditch, penchant for saving people. Anyone you know come to mind,.. hmm?" Fred continued in a pessimistic voice.

Charlie's expression turned a sickly shade of green as he started to come to the same realization as the rest of his family.

"Harry wouldn't be crazy enough to try and fight something like that,... would he?" Charlie asked with fleeting hope to the contrary.

"You've spent too much time shoveling up dragon poo, the fumes have addled your brains." Fred quipped.

"Of course Harry would, you git." George added.

"Gods No! He can't? There's no chance against something like that?" Charlie argued alarmed.

"No kidding." Fred drawled.

"Yeah, I'd never have guessed that Harry would take on something that was supposed to be impossible, would you Fred?"

"Indeed not, my brother. I'm as shocked as you by the insinuation." George continued with feigned indignance.

"Boys, that's enough. Can't you see how this is upsetting your mother?" Mr. Weasley reprimanded the twins insensitivity.

Mrs. Weasley had her face buried in her husband's shoulders and was weeping softly.

"Sorry, mum. I'm sorry." The twins chorused abashed.

"Would one of you check on your sister, please?" Their father asked worriedly.

"I vill go." Fleur said rising gracefully from next to Bill, and sweeping up the stairway.

**Knock.. Knock. **

Not waiting for an answer, Fleur stepped into the youngest Weasley's room, "Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley was staring out her bedroom window with her arms wrapped around her waist as if she was fighting off a chill breeze.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked coolly, never turning her gaze from the window.

"How are you dealing with all of zis?" Fleur asked innocently.

"I'm fine with it." Ginny intoned hollowly.

"Hmpff, zat is what 'Arry alvays said when he was anyzing but." she harrumphed knowingly.

Ginny rounded on her soon to be sister in-law furiously." What do I care how Harry bloody Potter use to say or feel? He's little more than just a dim memory to me and I'd just a soon he stay that way."

Fleur hid her shock of surprise by the vehemence of Ginny's words with and continued graciously.

"Ginny, you do not mean zat?"

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't mean, now does it? You've all got ears. You can hear the broadcasts. He's going to die, if he hasn't already? Why is it so almighty important that Harry Potter live? The boy attracts danger like kneazles do fleas. The world was at peace when he was out of the picture. He hasn't been back a week and look what's happening out there. He.."

CRACK

Fleur's hand slapped across Ginny's cheek, leaving and angry red hand print in its wake.

"Do you zink he wants zis? Do you?" Fleur scolded angrily. "You may not remember, but the man in the pensieve is not someone who craves battle. He is a vorrier, yes. A great champion for ze light, he may be, but, zat iz not 'Arry Potter. Did you not watch ze memories zat we all left for you in ze pensieve?"

Ginny's hand cradled her stinging cheek as she answered in trepidation, "I saw enough to know that I can't possibly see anymore. I can't bear anymore. Nobody does things like that. Nobody could possibly care that much? I could never live up to the expectations of something like that?" She was babbling now as wellspring of pain opened within her.

"H-He should have died, and I should've been with him. Together! We were supposed to be together!" Ginny blurted out painfully as she fled the room in tears, leaving a totally dejected, Fleur, in her wake.

**Romania**

"Potter! Always into the thick of it aren't you? We'll this time you're finally going to die the death you so richly deserve." Morvis threatened.

Harry eyed the abandoned broom lying to his left. He needed Movis to move that thing he was mounted on, just a little bit closer.

"Give over, Morvis. All your dragons and their riders are either dying or dead. Hell, look at you, you're left with nothing but that scaly overgrown iguana to ride. You'd be comical if you weren't so pathetic." Harry goaded.

**The Burrow**

"_You'd be comical if you weren't so pathetic."- _echoed over the wireless, the network having found a way to catch the words of the combatants down on the pitch.

"At a boy, Harry." Fred chimed in bracingly in response to Harry's defiance.

**Hogwarts **

"_You'd be comical if you weren't so pathetic."_

Headmisstress Mcgonagal rocked slowly in her chair as she listened, murmuring softly to herself.

"That's our boy, Albus. That's our boy."

As afraid for him as she was, she was that proud too.

**Romania**

"Comical am I? We'll see who has the last laugh, when my wyvern is feasting on your still warm entrails."

"**Attack!"**

Movis spurred his mount forward and the wyvern came undulating across the field toward a waiting Harry.

"_Accio _broom" Harry called softly. He pulled his sword from the ground and stepped onto the broom's handle when it arrived. Two quick slashes of his sword later, and the broom's handle was carved to a fine spear point.

Harry shot forward on the broom, straight toward the head of the on rushing wyvern. The creature spat green froth at him that caught Harry on his wounded side. The acidic venom ate into the wound left by Voldemort's _spectral basilisk_. Harry bit back the scream of blinding pain that tore through his side and concentrated on the task at hand.

He'd only get one chance at this...

The wyvern reared its scaled head as it prepared to spew another gout of acid venom .

Harry accelerated and shot like a bullet toward the creature's gapping maw.

He drove the sharpened point of his broom dead center into the creature's mouth just as it was about to spit another gout of acidic venom at him.

The impact with the creature rocketed Harry forward off his broom. His sword flashed out as he shot bodily past a shocked Alexander Morvis.

The shock was plainly evident on Morvis's face where it looked up from its ground vantage point,... the place his decapitated head had come to rest.

Harry hit the ground like a comet, tumbling head over heels until finally skidding to a halt fifty meters past the point of impact with the wyvern.

Biting back on the pain that wracked his body, he twisted around in time to see the wyvern thrashing and gagging in its death throes. The creature's too short legs, clawed uselessly as it tried to reach its maw and extract the make shift spear that was slowly strangling the beast.

A horrifically long minute later, the wyvern gave a last shuddering gasp and went limp, blessedly dead.

Harry hurt as never before. His body was broken and he could feel the wyvern's acidic venom eating into his side and knew that it would soon find its way into his blood stream. Things would finally end at that point. At least the pain would be gone. Nothing could save him now, but at least he had the pleasure of knowing that Voldemort would finally expire along with him.

He summoned the last of his waning strength and decided to make a last visit before death claimed him.

A lightning flash later, and the pitch was devoid of all life.

**Godric's Hollow **

_Eighteen Dragons and as many dark wizards, A wyvern and Morvis. Quite a night's work, Harry. _Remus Lupin thought darkly as he tallied up Harry's accomplishments from the night before as he made his way round St. Timothy's cathedral, toward the gated cemetery at its rear. He came to atone to his deceased friends, after having spent the night in Dora's tender embrace. Each drew comfort from the other as they mourned the final death of his dearest friend's only son.

This morning he'd felt compelled to pay a visit to James and Lily Potter's graves. Dora had wanted to come long, but, he'd talked her out of it. This was his burden. He alone would need to answer to James, Lily and Sirius. He knew they would have expected him to defend Harry with his life. He'd expected the same of himself,... and had failed miserably

With a heavy heart, Remus began to word out the apology he'd planned to make, but found no words as he came to an abrupt halt at the cemetery's gate.

He stood staring with eyes too shocked to dare hope, as they traveled to the crumpled form on the ground in front of the Potter's graves.

A soft golden glow was fading from the body that Remus reverently lifted into his arms. He paused before apparating away with his precious bundle to look down at James and Lily's graves. His heart was in his eyes as he murmured softly. "T-Thank you. I won't ever fail you again."

Harry slowly woke by the soft lit glow of his bedside lamp. He reached toward the night table and fumbled for his glasses. Once his glasses were on and he could see properly, he found himself nestled in Sirius's room at Grimauld Place.

_A nightmare? _

His hand went toward the wound in his side,... _gone? _

The pain was gone. The terrible pain from Voldemort's wound was gone. _Had it all been just a dream? A terrible nightmare? _He got up and stumbled from the room with a renewed sense of hope that the nightmare of his past two year's existence had been just that, a nightmare.

_**Thank God**_**.**

Had his eyes but caught the headline of the newspaper left on his bedside table,...his hopes would have been dashed.

_**September 1, 2010**_

_**The Daily Prophet**_

_** Harry Potter Presumed Dead- Again.**_

_ Our readers will recall the stunning revelation that the wizarding world's greatest hero survived the battle with Voldemort that was thought to have claimed his life. Like the 'Phoenix of Legend', Harry Potter rose from the ashes of his supposed demise as star quidditch seeker, Alan Brandt. Having led the 'woe be gone' Chudley Cannons to the World Cup, where Brandt was unmasked as Harry Potter, by a genius bit of magic that replayed the pensieve memories of Harry Potter's epic battle with Voldemort, finishing with his rise to stardom as his assumed alter ego- Alan Brandt._

_ The World Cup match was ironically held on Potter's birthday, July 31. The crowd's elation at the survival of the man, who is arguably considered the wizarding world's greatest hero, was soon dashed by the treacherous attack by rising dark lord, Alexander Morvis, and his Crimson Riders._

_**Harry Potter appears to have fought his last battle. **_

_ The wizarding world's greatest 'champion of light', fought a pitched battle against insurmountable odds and conquered that night , but mysteriously disappeared after finally defeating the dark lord Alexander Morvis and accomplishing that which no one has ever claimed in history, the slaying of a __**Wyvern**__. After a month long search by international ministerial officials, Harry Potter continues to be missing, but now officially presumed dead. Readers are cautioned that, although Potter is likely dead, he has previously proven himself to be,... __**the boy who lived.**_

_**end**_

*Watch for the continuation of Harry's tale in-**Magical Knight**


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